The Marauders and the Year of Dark Uprising
by TruQPrat
Summary: Full summary inside. We all know Lily and James are destined for each other. But just how does James convince Lily that he really has changed in order for her to give him a chance? Follow the Marauders, Lily, and her friends in their sixth year.
1. Hogwarts Express Reunions

**The Marauders and the Year of Dark Uprising**

Summary: We all know Lily and James are destined for each other. But just how does James convince Lily that he really has changed in order for her to give him a chance? Follow the Marauders, Lily, and her friends as their sixth year begins. How do nine teenagers cope with the strange things happening with the rise of a Dark Lord, and the pranking chaos that ensues, and the dramatic twists of their love lives? Read (and review, of course) to find out. Title subject to change. Rating (for language mostly) just to be safe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hey, guys! JKR here, righting this fanfic while I neglect my duty of finishing the actual HP series! Totally joking. But you were convinced, right? I'm touched. I can assure you, I am not the genius known as J. K. Rowling, and if I were, I wouldn't be writing on a fan site. I'm not her, so don't sue.

A/N: This is my first ever attempt at writing for pleasure (because HP is so awesome), so any constructive criticism you have would be much appreciated and considered. Flames welcome (I could use a good laugh anyway). Read and Review!

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**_Chapter 1: Hogwarts Express Reunions_**

Amidst her empty train compartment, sixteen-year-old Lily Evans carefully unfolded the first letter she had received over the summer break from her fellow Gryffindor and best friend as she waited the arrival of the rest of her friends. The creases along the parchment were worn from Lily excessively whipping it out for a quick read.

She began perusing each word slowly, taking the time to reabsorb its contents for what seemed like the millionth time since a familiar brown owl had brought it to her lonesome bedroom window.

_Lily,_

_It already feels like I haven't seen you in ages! How's your summer going? Have you already been bombarded by James Potter's (a.k.a. President of the Lily Evans Fan Club) love letters? He's a bit clingy—but I'm sure you know all about that, don't you?_

_Anyway, I hope for your sake Petunia isn't being a right pain in the arse, as I suspect she is. If you need me to deal with her properly, I've been working diligently on my Stinging Hex, which Ian will grudgingly confirm I'm quite good at now. (How else would I shut him up from pining about his stupid girlfriend last year? He finally saw reason when I was through with him!) Don't worry, I'm not **actually** about to break the Degree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, as I'm sure you were about to chide me about._

_On a lighter note, nothing much has happened here. Although, Mum's in a fit trying to get Lynn's baby shower ready in time. She's due sometime around Christmas. Unfortunately though, she and Merrill have taken up residence in my room, leaving me to shack up with Jillian. She's so much younger, and it's not as if she can even play Quidditch with me yet, seeing as how she has no broom. I told my mom that the living arrangements were unfair and she waved me off, saying I was being selfish. Honestly! I have bloody needs, too, you know! But, does she listen? Of course not. Whatever. _

_Oh! I've just remembered that Oliver is finally coming home next week, as soon as he completes his Auror training. My parents have been going crazy trying to make everything at home perfect for his homecoming (and here I am, sharing a small room with an eleven-year-old and they don't do **anything** whatsoever about that!). At the way Mum and Dad were beaming with pride, you'd think **I** weren't here at all, the way they go on about how **wonderful** and **brave **he is. Don't get me wrong though, I really do miss him. He leaves at the end of summer for his first assignment too. In the meantime he promised he'd help Ian and I practice Quidditch, though (as if **I** need it—Bludgers practically run for cover when I'm on the field!). _

_Don't let Petunia keep you down, and hurry up and send Iris with a reply, will you?_

_Your astoundingly gorgeous friend,_

_Evelyn_

Lily snorted. _Astoundingly gorgeous?_ Evelyn always seemed to make her laugh, and she particularly missed her witty—though sometimes crass—comments this summer.

In fact, laughter was especially hard to come by at the Evans' home—though it's taken for granted all the time, yet is one of the things Lily surely missed most during the summer holidays away from her Hogwarts friends. After sharing a small suburban home in Surrey with her unbearable troll of a sister, Petunia, life in Lily's world sometimes seemed lonely.

Normally, Lily was forced to endure Petunia's constant presence during the summer holidays, attempting in vain to keep at least a one-room buffer between them lest Lily lose her temper. She would usually just pretend she didn't hear the occasional whispered insult as she tried to do her summer homework, but sometimes Petunia went too far. Lily distinctly remembered a time after her fifth year exams when she boxed Petunia right in the nose after she referred to Lily's O.W.L. scores as being 'less than perfect' when she received an E on her Transfiguration exam. For someone who didn't know Lily, they might say that's a little harsh—after all, there's nothing wrong with one E when the rest of your scores are so superb. But not for Lily. As far as Lily was concerned, it was one thing to make fun of the fact that she even _possessed_ magic abilities; it was an entirely different circumstance to _debase_ those abilities. Lily then threatened to remove the hair from her sister's head with a good Instant Scalping hex, but her parents grounded her for her previous aggression and forced her to apologize before said threat could be performed. Despite Lily's violent reaction, Petunia didn't let up in her insults. However, she chose to spit them only as she quickly exited a room and continued to check over her shoulder frequently when she believed Lily to be in close proximity, fearful that her hair would disappear if didn't keep her eye on her vengeful sister.

But this past summer took a different turn soon after that incident, but Lily couldn't figure out just _what_ was so different when it occurred to her—Petunia had been mysteriously absent in her usual taunting. In fact, she was rarely home at all, Lily noticed, and absent almost everyday for at least several hours. Even when she _did_ frequent the house, she wasn't nearly as spiteful as before, acting cheerful and—well, very un-Petunia-like. Upon addressing her parents with the issue, her mum said, "Well, isn't it obvious?" Lily's confused expression prompted her to continue. "She's seeing someone, dear," her mum elaborated.

So that was it—that was why she was mysteriously absent and so abnormally cheery; Petunia's dating somebody! Imagine! _Who_, Lily wondered, _would possibly want to date my obnoxious sister, anyway? After everything she's ever done to me—the insults, the taunting, the constant reminders of how **different** I am—who could possibly endure her in a relationship—let alone a **romantic** one?_ Lily certainly wanted to meet the man so that she could personally thank him for keeping her sister away from the house and marvel at his ability to tolerate her. She didn't know she'd get her wish granted so soon, and with such a different reaction.

Lily met Vernon Dursley when Petunia brought him to dinner later that week, and he turned out to be just as unpleasant as her own sister was. He was a large, beefy man that gave Lily shifty eyes the whole evening as if she would explode at any moment, giving her the definite suspicion that Petunia had already forewarned him all about her "abnormalities." Lily definitely wasn't thrilled to have another "Petunia" that would be just as critical of her as her own sister was.

However, after the evening ended (_Thank Merlin!_), Lily began to reconsider the situation optimistically. If Vernon continued to see Petunia and kept her far, far away from her Lily, then she was given freedom from Petunia's constant spite. She'd finally be gone, at long last!

And with that uplifting prospect, Lily's dreadful summer began to turn up, although she wished she could share her happiness with the comfort of her friends from Hogwarts.

Usually one friend or another would invite her over for a week or two during summer to the sanity of their normal wizarding home. Unfortunately for Lily, all of her friends had plans—plans that unfortunately did not include her this time. Evelyn was spending the summer catching up with her older brother, Oliver, who'd finally returned from Auror training and was spending the rest of the holidays with his family. Although Lily was extremely happy for her, she still wished Evelyn's summer plans included her even though she knew she was being selfish. Another friend of Lily's was touring Spain with her aunt while two of her other closest friends were visiting their respective families elsewhere in Britain. Each one of them promised to keep Lily extremely up-to-date in all of their letters, so it came as no surprise to Lily when a myriad of owls pecked on her window each week.

Her friends' letters were her only escape to sanity when Petunia became unbearable in the earlier days of the summer. For the first few weeks until Vernon came along, Lily relied on them to keep the lines of communication open between her Muggle home and the magical world. Sometimes, Lily reluctantly admitted, having magical parents would make life at home so much easier—her parents could understand and assist her with her schoolwork, be able to conjure up a needed object with the flick of a wand, and her sister wouldn't resent her for her differences, as Petunia too would posses the magical trait.

But Lily Evans' parents were not magical; they're Muggles, and cannot always comprehend their bright witch of a daughter. They didn't understand the fact that simply because they possess not one drop of magical blood, Lily would face prejudice in the wizarding world. They didn't understand that her non-magical upbringing and blood impurity made her not only different, but inferior in the eyes of some of Pureblood wizards.

Ever since she learned her place among wizarding society, however, Lily became a determined student to prove herself and earn herself a respectful reputation. She earned top marks to show everyone that being a Muggleborn did not handicap her intelligence. She worked diligently everyday with the goal of achieving the approval of society, her family, but most importantly for her own personal satisfaction.

But, as Lily constantly chided herself, who cares about the approval of those who don't matter when one has the support and acceptance of the best friends anyone could ask for? It's true—while she may not be accepted by the few blood-supremacy crazed out there, her Gryffindor room mates stood by her one hundred and ten percent through everything since the day they met. They defended her when she felt threatened because of her parentage and they encouraged her to prove those Purebloods wrong about Muggleborns. She felt closer to them than anybody else in her life, and missed them terribly over the summer break. Although they wrote her, and she them, Lily was overjoyed to be finally returning to the place where they all dwelled together at Hogwarts.

Lily shoved the memory aside as her mind reentered the present. Just as she began to neatly refold the letter, a familiar voice interrupted her reverie.

"Oi! Evans, put that down for one ruddy second and give me a hand, would you?" shouted a perturbed brunette, yet failing to hide her unmistakable grin. She hadn't changed a bit, Lily noticed; she had the same sleek hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her brown eyes held the same warmth and glow that she always possessed.

"Why, Evelyn Marie Wood, it would be my pleasure," responded Lily cheerfully, taking hold on one of the several bags she had been lugging about.

"I really don't see how the Muggles live without magic," Evelyn burst out. "I mean, _really_—having to carry around such heavy things all the time? It's bloody ridiculous! . . . There, that's better. Anyway—it's wonderful to see you again, Lily! How was your summer? You seemed unusually upbeat in your last letter."

"Oh, that. Well . . . Petunia's _finally_ got a new hobby besides annoying me—a boyfriend—Vernon Dursley's his name—and don't ask me how she managed that feat, because I have no idea," Lily gave a revolted look. "With her out of the house, I didn't have to endure her constant terrorizing. It was paradise compared to the norm. So, where's Ian and Jillian?"

Evelyn shrugged. "Hell if I know; can't keep track of all the Woods in my bloody huge family, you know, but I'm sure they're around here somewhere. I bet my brother's looking for his little fifth year friends. . . . I think I saw Jillian heading for a compartment with some blonde first year. . . . Is that Natalie? Over here, Nat!"

A tall girl with a slightly flushed, yet freckled face and curly blonde ringlets made her way into the compartment, her bags in tow.

"Hello, Lily, Evelyn; seen Bea or Cassie here yet?" she managed between breaths.

The three united girls began chatting away at once. After Natalie engaged Evelyn in a deep conversation on the latest Quidditch match (the Appleby Arrows versus the Hollyhead Harpies), two more familiar faces appeared in the doorway. One belonged to a dark-skinned girl with brilliant blue eyes who leaned against the doorway; the other was a petite and very attractive girl with golden hair and fair skin. The latter's clothes appeared to be saturated with—

"MILK!" she bellowed. "Of all things! Sodding Black and his stupid mates . . . thought it would be _funny _to levitate milk-filled balloons over my head as soon as I got on the train! Well, I'll show him!" She proceeded to perform a quick "_Scourgify!_" to rid herself of the mess on her robes before sitting down, crossing her arms defiantly, and glaring out the window as she started planning a plot to extract her revenge.

Lily tried to look sympathetic while the rest simply tried to muffle their giggles into their hands; they did not want the girl's fury to be redirected at themselves.

As the dark-skinned girl took the seat across from her, she remarked, "Bea, I believe that might have had something to do with the incident last year—you know—where you threw that glass of milk into Black's face at breakfast? I distinctly recall the phrase 'Got milk, Black?' being used."

The angry girl mellowed down, looking thoughtful. Then she grinned at the memory.

"Right . . . right . . . But that was _after_ I found out _he_ was the one sending me those Howlers—charming his voice different, of course—which claimed I was a 'batty old crone' that 'had the intelligence of a flobberworm' and I was so infuriated I just . . . just reacted, y'know? So, technically speaking, he's still one up on me and I need to get even," she reasoned, returning her determined gaze out the window.

"You know, you really shouldn't continue descending to their level, especially since it always involves breaking rules and could cost Gryffindor points," pointed out Lily politely, even though she doubted she was being listened to.

She glowered at Lily. "Always rules, rules, rules, with you, Lily—guess that's just a side-effect of being a prefect. But honestly, whose side are you on anyway? You know they deserve it—surely you can't've forgotten about Potter and his series of troublemaking?"

"Honestly? I'm not justifying either one of you. 'S far as I'm concerned he _does_ deserve it, but it's really up to an authority figure to deem punishment, Beatrice."

"Oh please. You know you don't _really_ believe that rubbish. It's all a façade you put on while carrying out prefect duties and reporting students to teachers. . . . But deep down, you want to see me, among others, deflate Potter and Black's ego with a flick of my wand. Admit it!"

"No, I don't!" retorted Lily hotly, although it wasn't the least bit convincing. Beatrice smirked, knowing she had won her point.

Suddenly, the dark girl expressed a question that had been on her mind for some time, wiping Beatrice's smug appearance clean.

"You know, it's strange—you and Black—didn't used to be this . . . _bitter_ towards each other, I seem to recall. Then, all of a sudden, it's like you declared war in . . . fourth year, wasn't it? I don't exactly remember why."

All she received was annoyed muttering in response, where "stupid prick" and "bloody bastard" were the only discernable words.

"Oh yes, Beatrice, really, I would have _hated_ it if you had been vague. But fine—bottle all your frustration inside until you explode at the 'stupid prick' known as Sirius Black," responded the dark girl sarcastically. "Besides," she continued, "_everyone_ knows Black is a—what was it? Oh yes—'bloody bastard' to anyone who ticks anyone in his and Potter's little gang off. What did he do _precisely_ that made you so different from the rest of his victims, hm? I wonder if it had anything to do with last—"

"Alright, Cassandra, I get it, so you can stop analyzing my frustration," interrupted Beatrice indignantly.

"So, Lily," Evelyn broke in, trying to maintain the peace, "run into James yet? You know—the pathetic excuse of a male who's bloody obsessed with the 'red-haired goddess' known as Lily Evans?"

Lily snorted, looking appalled. She wrinkled her nose and rolled her emerald eyes, clearly conveying that she didn't find his attention at all flattering; rather, she found his arrogance and persistence a nuisance.

"Thankfully, no; not yet, that is. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if he turned up any moment to ask me out again. Stupid prick, can't take no for an answer, that one. When will he get it through his thick skull that he can't win me over like all his other flavors-of-the-week? I'm not just any girl, and when I say I can't be won, I mean it!" she proclaimed, cheeks tinged pink in frustration.

Natalie nodded in understanding, but persisted. "Maybe he is a conceited prick, Lily, but he's really cute. I'd date him," she admitted thoughtfully, her eyes dancing with mischief as if she were contemplating that very idea. Lily, looking both horrified and repulsed at the idea of someone willingly dating the one person she despised, simply gaped at Natalie. "Only joking, Lily."

Lily's expression mollified, at least until Evelyn sniggered in an undertone, "As if Potter would betray his _precious_ Lily."

The fury in Lily began to build—the typical effect that Potter had on her, even when he was out of the room. _There is absolutely **no way **Potter and I could **ever **have a future together! The idea is enough to make me sick. What does anyone see in him anyway? All he has going for him is his money, his Quidditch skills, and maybe his looks. _Lily rolled her eyes. _If you can call his untamed hair and glasses attractive, anyway. Those attributes hardly even begin to make up for everything else despicable about him, though. I can't stand him! He's so arrogant, and conceited, and insensitive, and annoying, and cocky, and—_

"Hello . . . Earth to Lily? Lily! Snap out of it!" Natalie interrupted, waving a hand in Lily's entranced face. "I just asked you if you wanted to play Exploding Snap with me and Evelyn."

_And just when my 'Reasons why I hate Potter' list was really on a roll_. "No thanks, Nat—Prefect meeting in a few minutes," said Lily.

"—Was probably dreaming of her _precious Potter_ . . ." Lily heard Beatrice whisper to Natalie, before she disappeared behind a rather large crimson book. Neither even attempted to conceal their loud fit of giggles.

"Of course I wasn't!" Lily protested, flushing slightly.

"Denial," Natalie and Evelyn chorused, identical grins plastered on their grinning faces.

"—Is not just a river in Egypt, mate," continued Cassandra.

"I happen to think Potter is an intolerable git," Lily affirmed with a confident scowl.

"So we've heard," Cassandra noted.

"—Many times," added Natalie.

"—A day," chimed Beatrice, unblinkingly from behind her book she had been reading by the muggle author Shakespeare.

All, excluding Lily, burst into peals of laughter.

"Only because that's what he is," interrupted Lily in her own defense. "He and his silly friends insist on pranking everyone to death, cursing anyone because they can, and showing off whenever in public. . . . It's all so frustrating, really—I don't see why Potter thinks I'll ever go out with his oversized ego anyway; why would anyone?"

"Speaking from personal experience, I'd say it's because he's handsome, rich, popular, an excellent Chaser. . . . Gee, you're right, Evans, why would _anyone_ want that?" Evelyn answered sarcastically.

"If Potter's such a catch, why aren't you still dating him, then?" Lily shot back.

"Isn't it obvious, Lily? He's been hung up on you since fourth year. It was always 'Evans this' and 'Evans that' that eventually drove me bloody insane. Probably just dating me to make you jealous, which, was quite stupid of him, seeing as how you can't even stand him. I didn't mind though, I admit, because he was quite a decent kisser." Evelyn chuckled at the look of repulsion on Lily's face. "Besides that, I figured I couldn't deny the rest of Hogwarts with a beauty such as myself any longer, could I? I'd been off the dating market for too long by then. It just wasn't fair to the rest of the male population."

Lily and Natalie threw several chocolate frogs from the trolley at the smug brunette, but instead of looking defeated, Evelyn simply smiled and began to happily tear open the frog that landed near her left foot.

Evelyn continued in-between bites. "We both agreed we wanted different things: he wanted Lily, I wanted to snog other blokes—so it all worked out for the best. Don't worry, Lily," she added hastily. "I would never want to steal away your future husband, although I undoubtedly could," she added as an afterthought. Evelyn grinned evilly as Lily glared daggers at her. "Oh yes, and then I met that really cute Ravenclaw sixth-year—Terrence Blakeley—and when I knew he didn't have a thing for red-heads, I made my move."

"Blake_ney_," Cassandra corrected. "And he was a Hufflepuff. Honestly, Evelyn, if you're going to have twenty boyfriends a year, you might as well know their proper names."

"Whatever. The point is," said Evelyn, simply waving Cassandra's perfectly accurate advice aside, "that James does have some redeeming qualities, Lily, but like most blokes he can't show it without acting like a complete prat. Unfortunately, he's just not right for me. Black, on the other hand . . ." she said, eyes alight and grinning suggestively.

"I think I'll ignore the fact that you're trying to promote Potter's dating campaign," Lily responded. Then she raised her eyebrows in realization. "You going after Black yourself, Evelyn?"

"No need. She dated him in _fifth_ year—don't you remember? If you call snogging him _dating_, that is. Don't blame her really, even if he's a prat too, he's _gorgeous_," said Natalie.

"And also a pain in the arse, McKinnon," Beatrice added, setting down her book to take part in the conversation. "I personally don't see how you put up with him for as long as you did, Evelyn, but I suppose even the _legendary_ Sirius Black couldn't hold your attention for that long." She paused, turning toward Lily. "And as for Potter, I quite agree with you: he needs to do some growing up before expecting you to go out with him. How Lupin and Pettigrew put up with those two all these years, I'll never understand."

"Speaking of which," Lily interjected, "Remus and I really need to meet in the Prefects' compartment. I suppose I'll go drag him away from his ruddy mates. See you lot later, then."

As soon as she slammed shut the compartment door, she heard the familiar sound of Exploding Snap cards which were—well, exploding. She turned around and grinned cheekily through the window as she saw Natalie—her eyebrows looked as though they were badly singed—who gave her a stern look as if to say _'You better run for it, Evans.'_ As Natalie started to rise, Lily quickly darted down the hallway, hoping Natalie hadn't _actually_ followed her, when she ran head-first into a tall, dark figure. His rumpled black hair and cocky smirk was unmistakable. As if by reflex, he reached up to tussle his hair. Lily groaned inwardly.

"Hey, Evans! Fancy meeting you here. Have a nice summer? Did you get my letters?" said James Potter, who grinned as he extended a hand to help her up after the collision sent her ungracefully to the floor.

"Yes, I did, Potter," she replied tersely, ignoring his hand and standing up. "And I'll thank you _not_ to send anymore of them—it was rather annoying, and my parents are now referring to you as my 'stalker.' You needn't have bothered with so many, seeing as how after the first three, I started pitching them in the fire."

Instead of looking defeated, James' grin broadened. "It's only a matter of time, Evans. I'm sure my persistence will pay off eventually. One can only resist my charms for so long before they are inevitably drawn back to me. Although, you're the first to try, I admit. By the way—go out with me?"

She scowled and ignored him, attempting to shove past him to find Remus's compartment; he simply blocked her. "Out of my way, Potter, I have a prefect meeting to be at and I really don't want to have to dock points from my own house for you delaying me, so if you'll excuse me—go pester someone else . . ."

"Your words wound me, Evans," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart, although he did not look the least bit wounded at all. "Besides, what's your hurry? Meeting doesn't start for a good ten minutes; at least, that's what Remus said, and he's quite a reliable source. Join us in our compartment for a few, would you?"

"No _thank you_, Potter. I really don't want to spend anymore time with you than necess—oof!" She was abruptly cut off as James lightly shoved her into the nearest compartment.

Amidst a multitude of empty candy wrappers and Quidditch magazines, sat the three other infamous Marauders. Peter and Sirius were casually swapping Chocolate Frog cards while Remus was sitting comfortably in the corner, engaged in his latest read. All of them looked up at her in surprise as she grudgingly entered.

"Why, it's the lovely Miss Evans! Certainly heard your name many times over the holidays, seeing as how James wouldn't shut the bloody hell up." Sirius narrowed his eyes at James, then resumed talking to Lily with phony sincerity. "And to what do we all owe this great pleasure, hm? Couldn't have something to do with your dieing affection for a certain _irresistible_, and—lucky for you—_single_ bloke sitting right in front of you, could it?" Sirius wagged his eyebrows suggestively and winked at her, while James threw him a scathing look.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. _Sirius Black: biggest flirt at Hogwarts. _"I'll _tell_ you what brought me here: your inconsiderate mate just _shoved_ me in. Oh, and Black, I can assure you with complete confidence—I did not come to hear your sorry excuse for flirting, although, now I'm kind of curious as to how other respectable girls could possibly fall for those clichéd lines."

Sirius, feigning offense, puffed out his bottom lip and showed Lily his "puppy eyes," causing her to suppress her laughter into her hand.

"Lily, you and I both know that these two can't go five minutes without acting like typical teenage blokes." Remus smiled as his eyes met hers over the top of his book. _At least one of them has some decency,_ thought Lily. "I _do_ try to restrain them, hoping one day that all my positive influence will have paid off, but alas—they're lost causes, both of them. I'm not quite sure why I even bother to try and change them anymore, these days."

"You know you love us, Moony," said James, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Yes, and I let you get away with so much because of it," answered Remus, with just a trace of regret. No one noticed it.

"It's not as if anyone could control those two, anyway," piped up Peter.

"Too right you are, Wormtail," said Sirius, smirking with self-satisfaction.

_Moony? Wormtail? I'll never understand these four and their childish ways_, Lily thought to herself

"Care for a Cauldron Cake, Lily?" Sirius attempted an innocent face as he extended the sweet towards her.

"I'm not _that_ thick, Black. It's just another pitiful attempt to get me to eat a nasty Cockroach Cluster again that you've charmed to look like something edible."

"Suit yourself. The twenty times you fell for that one last year were funny enough," Sirius said, withdrawing his arm and stuffing the contents in his mouth. Lily glowered. _Damn my gullibility! _"I remember the first time," he continued, still chewing, "you fell for it, you took it without even suspecting a thing—which isn't something to do when you consider our _well-known_ reputation—and you then got this horribly disgusted expression on your face when you ate it; priceless! You're too trusting for your own good, Lily dear."

"For your information," Lily stated firmly, hating to be the butt of his joke, "I only fell for it _twice_ last year."

"Although true, that's not exactly something to boast about, Lily," said Remus pointedly.

"However, it was a step up from the time in _fourth_ year when we kept following her around the school for at least twenty minutes while splitting her bag open numerous times. We must have pulled that one five times! You didn't even see us, Evans, until, like, three floors later!"

Sirius gave a howl of laughter as James didn't hesitate to reenact the prank—imitating a befuddled Lily—as he clutched his sack with mock confusion at an imaginary rip. Peter nearly fell off his seat laughing.

_Enough with their stupid antics, especially at **my** expense! Definitely time to get out of here **now**, _Lily decided.

"Right. As . . . _interesting_ as it's been talking to you all, Remus and I are both expected in the prefect's compartment," she blurted, desperate to escape to the company of at least three of the troublemakers.

Remus nodded and stood, opening the door and leading the way. Lily followed suit, glancing back to find James waving merrily at her through the compartment window. _She knows she loves me_, James thought. When out of sight, he turned back to face the remaining occupants in his company.

After a moment of silence, James spoke up. "I'm making leeway, gentlemen. I'll bet pretty soon Evans won't be able to turn me down and will finally go out with me," James announced with an air of confidence.

Sirius muttered "I'll take that bet" just as Peter asked "how do you know?" with rapt curiosity.

"I'd be delighted to explain, Wormtail," said James, ignoring Sirius and looking positively jubilant at, what he thought, was an impressive proclamation.

Sirius groaned. "Here we go again . . . What's the new tactic this year, Prongs? Going to send her a bouquet of roses via owl like you tried during Valentine's fourth year? Or how about the time last year when you displayed that large banner in the Great Hall with a picture of yourself and 'Go out with me, Evans?' on it? Or what about—"

"Okay, I get it, Padfoot!" said James exasperated._ Gee, good to know I have such supportive friends._ "Besides, those are all in the past, mate. I've learned since then. I know better now. Plus if I blow this chance, I'll only have one year left. But that won't happen because, like I said, I'm making leeway. Didn't you notice that, during the whole time she was in my presence, she never called me a 'sodding prick,' a 'conceited git,' or even an 'infuriating prat' once? She's falling for me," he reasoned.

Sirius blinked. He appeared to be actually considering James' rubbish logic for a moment, and then he finally remembered his sanity.

"Well, then. I withdraw all my previous doubts. How could I have missed true love blossom before my very eyes? By all means, Prongs, when's the wedding?" asked Sirius sardonically.

James chucked Remus's book at him, but missed his head by a foot as Sirius dodged.

"Now _really_, Prongs, is that our star Chaser? If that's your best effort, then I'd just hand over the Cup to the Slytherins right now and save yourself the humiliation."

Frowning, the thought of Lily left James' mind as he heatedly contemplated the Slytherins with the Cup. _Fat chance, they've got_. He suddenly remembered something.

"Fountaine's been made Captain this year, you know. Strict, she is. Probably likely she'll have us practicing day and night until the first match. But she'll keep us in shape and get the team ready for certain. Whatever it takes to wipe the smile off those slimy Slytherins, I'm up for it."

"I wouldn't worry, mate, you've got the best team since third year when Maureen Webb used to be our superb seeker. Too bad she graduated. Besides, you've got Wood and McKinnon on the team, and they're as fierce as any I've seen. I know that Wood, for one, can definitely handle those Bludgers—remember when she punched me last year after I _casually_ chatted up Chloe Winters? Took it a little too personal, I say. Well, I guess we _were_ dating then, but still—didn't think she had to give me a bloody black-eye!"

"Where you're concerned with girls, Padfoot, there's generally nothing _casual _about it. But you're definitely right—Wood does have strength worthy of a dangerous Beater. Her viciousness is quite legendary, I remember," James commented matter-of-factly, reminiscing on many previous Quidditch matches where the opposing team had do avoid many of her deadly Bludgers.

"McKinnon too—great Keeper. Remember she was nearly knocked from her broom by a Bludger but _still_ managed to make that save?" supplied Peter, awestruck.

"Cup's ours this year for sure," continued James. "So long as the Slytherins don't jinx our brooms or something else scummy, which, wouldn't be all that surprising, coming from those bunch of cheaters."

"Speaking of them, what's our first prank of the year? I've been itching to hex _Snivellus_ all summer long, the greasy git. We need something new, never been done before, something like—"

"Agreed, however—" interrupted James "—Let's wait until later tonight, when Moony can join us."

"Right, we also need to discuss the next full—oh, hello there, Basil. What can we do for you?"

Cassandra Basil was poking her head through the compartment door she had just opened. She smiled in greeting, then proceeded to occupy Remus's abandoned seat, reclining her legs in relaxation.

"I needed to escape from the rest of them, actually. They were . . . less than amusing," she offered. When she only received blank stares, she elaborated. "Evelyn and Natalie insist on betting who can eat the most Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans without getting sick, which is to say, they were still gagging on some soap flavored ones by the time I'd left. Bea prefers to be boring as she reads—although, I happened to notice her eyes weren't moving—possibly to hide the fact that she's plotting some sort of retaliation on Black here, so you've been forewarned. Nice one—with the milk—by the way, Regnet was utterly pissed." She laughed as she directed the complement towards Sirius, who looked more than pleased with himself.

"Glad someone appreciates my one of my many striking talents."

"Modest, aren't we, Black?" retorted Cassandra mockingly.

"Never was my strongest point, I'm afraid, dear. I am, however, incredibly good-looking. Now _that_ is something I'm proud of." He grinned triumphantly.

Everyone rolled their eyes. Cassandra didn't even attempt to conceal a snort of mirth.

"Now _that_ wasn't very ladylike, Miss Basil."

"And when, pray tell, have I _ever_ given you the impression that I was a lady, Mr. Black?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment. "Point taken."

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm one of the guys, Sirius Black, and you'd do well to remember it."

"Is that so?" inquired James. "Then perhaps you can help me out with a little . . . _problem_ of mine."

"What could _I_ possibly help _you _with? You make top marks _and_ excel in Quidditch—although, I don't play it myself, I do love it—_and_ you could have any girl you want in this school! Well, except for Lily, of course, but—oh, I get it."

He nodded in confirmation. "That's right, Cassie. Me and Evans. Help me out here—why won't she go out with me?"

Cassandra sighed, before pausing and glancing at her wristwatch. "Let's see . . . the train arrives at Hogwarts at, what, four? So, that leaves about four and a half hours left. . . ." She screwed up her face in false concentration, peeking out of the corner of her eye. She savored the confused look James gave her as he impatiently awaited her answer. "If we start now and move quickly, I think I _may_ be able to cover just about everything before then. . . . Sit back, Potter, and listen carefully."

* * *

A/N: So here's the first chapter, what d'ya think? I know this chapter was probably rather boring because nothing happens. However, I know what's coming, so I'm rather excited about this fic. I'd like to know what you think though, so drop a review and let me know! 


	2. Another Year at Hogwarts

**The Marauders and the Year of Dark Uprising**

Summary: We all know Lily and James are destined for each other. But just how does James convince Lily that he really has changed in order for her to give him a chance? Follow the Marauders, Lily, and her friends as their sixth year begins. How do nine teenagers cope with the strange things happening with the rise of a Dark Lord, and the pranking chaos that ensues, and the dramatic twists of their love lives? Read (and review, of course) to find out. Title subject to change. Rating (for language mostly) just to be safe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hey, guys! JKR here, writing this fanfic while I neglect my duty of finishing the actual HP series! Totally joking. But you were convinced, right? I'm touched. I can assure you, I am not the genius known as J. K. Rowling, and if I were, I wouldn't be writing on a fan site. I'm not her, so don't sue.

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I actually like this chapter a lot, so enjoy!

* * *

**_Chapter 2: Another Year at Hogwarts_**

"Where's Jillian? I don't see her in line."

"She's right there, Evelyn—behind the boy with the humungous ears."

Lily pointed to the small girl with long unruly hair; the resemblance between her and her elder sister was unmistakable. The few times Lily had seen her had been over the summer holidays when the Woods invited her over, and Lily learned at once that Jillian was as bold as the rest of her siblings were.

It appeared that Jillian hadn't much changed since Lily last saw her over a year ago; the youngest Wood was chatting amiably to the girl behind her, a petite blonde, as they stood waiting amidst the other trembling first year for the Sorting ceremony to begin. Lily admired the brave determination the young girl seemed to posses, remembering fondly that she herself had instead experienced a different emotion—a nervous lurch in the pit of her stomach during her own sorting the first day of her new life at Hogwarts.

Lily distinctly felt small and intimidated the first time she had arrived at the magical castle, thinking to herself that she didn't have a clue what she was doing. After all, she didn't even know she was a witch until a few weeks prior. What if there had been a mistake and she didn't posses any magical abilities at all? What if she had no friends?

So it was with great trepidation that she meekly set the hat on her petite red locks, its wide brim engulfing half her head. It had told her that she would have made an excellent Ravenclaw, that she possessed the wit and cleverness of many of the brightest from that house. At once, Lily felt a feeling of reassurance about her abilities—if the sorting hat said she was bright (and who—or actually _what_—else could be more reliable than a mind-reading magical object?), that was enough for her!

But then, out of nowhere, the voice penetrating her mind discovered something within her she had not expected: a strong sense of hidden bravery and a stubborn nature. The hat, it seemed, had other plans for her other than assigning Lily a house with the cleverest witches of the school; it seemed to believe she possessed something much more important. . . .

And with a great cry of "GRYFFINDOR!" Lily left happily from the stool and trotted off to join her fellow applauding housemates, a confident grin upon her face.

"Ah, yes, I see her now," said Evelyn, stirring Lily out of her pleasant reverie. "Doesn't look scared a bit. She needn't be; my whole family's been in Gryffindor for generations, after all. 'Cept my Uncle Norman was a Hufflepuff, although I've always thought him a bit daft. . . ."

Beatrice snorted. "A _bit_ daft? He thought I was Gwendolyn Morgan—you know, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies? He asked for my autograph!"

"Well, you know, if you're in a certain liking, you kind of _do_ look like her."

"_What_?"

"This should be interesting," commented Cassandra casually, ignoring the other two completely.

As the drone of the Great Hall began to die down, the girl fell silent as the strict-looking Deputy Headmistress strode purposefully to the front and placed a rather patched and wrinkled hat on a four-legged stool in front of the trembling first years. Some seemed relieved to see that it was merely a hat, as if they had been expecting something far more difficult; others merely looked at it with confusion. _The Muggleborns_, Lily thought to herself, chuckling silently.

Then a rip along the hat's brim opened to form a broad mouth, which opened and began to sing:

"_Although I've no proper mind  
__Inside my wrinkled self,  
__A Thousand of years I've gathered dust  
__As I song-write on my shelf.  
__Then each year I am given task:  
__Divide you into families;  
__Four sorcerers of the houses  
__Once held this responsibility.  
__The Hogwarts founders soon saw  
__A problem they must clear,  
__For when they're gone and younglings come  
__Who'd sort new ones each year?  
__So I was used to take their place  
__Once they gave me wit,  
__And when you put me on, I judge  
__Which house you undoubtedly fit._

_Ravenclaw accepts the clever  
__And the brightest of them all,  
__While the loyal and hard working  
__Are best in Hufflepuff hall.  
__In Slytherin, power-seeking  
__And ambition they hold true;  
__If courage and bravery you hold,  
__Then Gryffindor's for you._

_So put me on and I'll probe deep  
__To see what you possess,  
__Then I'll decide where your fate lies,  
__Which house will suit you best.  
__Though destined I am to split you up,  
__Remember my last counsel:  
__Stand united and you will find  
__That no feat is impossible.  
__For dark times, if they befall  
__The school, you'll be prepared.  
__For together you'll stand greater chance  
__Of succeeding than when paired.  
__Now that I've told this truth,  
__Here ends my lengthy song.  
__So let's begin the ceremony,  
__And I'll show where you belong!"_

The hall was immediately filled with booming applause as the hat concluded its song. Although, man students were murmuring in confusion as they did so about the parting words the hat gave them. What was the sorting hat giving _advice_ for?

"I didn't know it gave warnings," commented Natalie in a low whisper.

"Yeah, why was it telling us to 'stand united'? What's this all about?" James asked from across the table.

The many surrounding Gryffindors who heard him shrugged. "If it expects us to start shaking hands and swapping compliments with the Slytherins, it's gone absolutely mental," Sirius said hotly. Many nodded in agreement, including the rest of the Marauders.

Remus shook his head doubtfully. "Did you hear it say 'dark times'? You don't think it means—?" He didn't want to finish his own sentence, and judging by the speechless stares he received, they didn't either. None of them knew what to make of it.

But Lily sat in silence, contemplating the hat's words. What was it trying to tell them? Was—as Remus said—something bad about to happen? Somehow she felt as if she missed an important warning and suddenly felt a feeling of foreboding. She shivered.

_Nonsense. _She shook her head. _I'm sure it's just the school's way of promoting inter-House unity, that's all._ But as she glanced up to the staff table, they seemed a little unnerved as well, increasing Lily's worrying.

The chatter fell silent again. Lily, dismissing her thoughts for the time being, directed her attention back to the front, for Professor McGonagall was about to begin the ceremony.

"Please step forward as I call your name to be sorted." She paused. "Anders, Genevieve!"

A tall, dark-haired girl walked hesitantly to the front and nervously slipped the hat onto her head, waiting for its final decision.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted a few seconds later, followed by Genevieve Anders making her way over to the cheering table on the far right.

"Dylan, Michael!" was called next, and after jamming the hat eagerly on his head, the hat shouted—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A small strawberry blonde boy with large dimpled cheeks scuttled over towards to roaring applause of the Gryffindor table, only to be accosted by several older Gryffindors eager to clap him on the back and congratulate him. James was among them, as he strode over pompously and enthusiastically shook his hand.

"This seems to take longer and longer every year," Beatrice complained amidst the chaos. "I wish they'd hurry it up a bit. I'm _starving_, here."

"Aren't you always?" Cassandra asked, earning a scowl from Beatrice.

"Well, it's true," Lily added thoughtfully. _Completely and honestly_.

"You know how Regnet is," said a deep voice a few seats behind them, "always wanting something _she can't have_."

They turned around to see Sirius Blank smiling casually as he stared Beatrice unblinkingly in the eye, as challenging her to lash out at him.

"Oh, please." Beatrice rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with malice. "You're no better, Black. You always want something only when you know you can't have it. If something's just out of your reach, you want it. If someone lays down a justified rule, you break it. If someone says they're not interested in you, you just pursue them more. Hell, I bet if Severus Snape walked right up to your smug face and said you couldn't find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, you'd search Sweden until you're bloody pride let you admit defeat. Don't judge me, Black, because you're no better," she finished heatedly, denying him a chance to respond as she whipped around to face the front again, silently fuming.

_Where had **that** come from? After all, he hadn't said anything particularly horrible, had he?_ Lily didn't know what to make of it.

Lily, her eyes a little wider, followed Beatrice's example, turning around to face the front once more, not uttering a single word. She felt like she had certainly missed something—something only Beatrice and Black seemed to understand—but she didn't want to press the matter in the midst of the sorting. _Maybe it's one of those things between them the rest of us don't understand. Hm. . . . _

Even though Beatrice had turned her back on him (which normally wouldn't have stopped Sirius from retaliating), it was odd that he didn't bother at all this time with a retort. It was quite unusual, actually. They both normally tried to have the last word (or jinx) which usually meant that the argument never ended until they had exhausted all their energy exchanging hexes or until an authority figure finally broke up the scuffle, complaining about the noise.

Given, they couldn't exactly curse each other with all the teachers present now, but Sirius normally would have kept up a battle of insults. It was just what they did.

However, he just sat there, a little taken aback, doing nothing of the sort. Strange.

Everyone's attention was recaptured by the ceremony as their table erupted into jeers and catcalls when "Lloyd, Melinda!" was announced the second first year to join Gryffindor.

"What's with those two?" Evelyn whispered to Lily whilst applauding the girl, nodding towards Beatrice and Sirius, who had both regained their composure and promptly went back to ignoring each other.

"Haven't got a clue," replied Lily. "One minute they were calm, the next Bea just lashed out with her claws of fury that would have given Mrs. Norris a run for her money. And Black just took it! Like a dog with its tail between its legs. It was strange. I don't know which one of them was more out of character."

Evelyn shrugged. "Not so much out of character, really. Their rivalry runs deeper than the rest of us can comprehend, you know that. Though, they usually do tend to drag us into the battlefield crossfire."

"Evelyn!" hissed Ian a few seats ahead of his sister. Ian Wood was a fifth year with chestnut hair and a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "Jillian's next!" He pointed towards the front on the line.

After the boy with the rather large ears ("Trevinsky, Jackson!") joined Ravenclaw, McGonagall called "Wood, Jillian!"

The girl walked briskly to the stool and jammed the hat on her head. She seemed very eager and confident, Lily observed. It took a particularly long time for the hat to make up its mind—almost a whole minute.

Finally, it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The little applause that came from Slytherin was hesitant, and the remaining houses were nearly silent. Whatever everyone had expected, it was not this. A Wood—in Slytherin? It was most unpredicted.

Lily heard Evelyn cry out in outrage as Ian glared daggers at the Slytherin table, but neither made to move. They were both too stunned.

The once confident girl stood slowly, her face pale; she removed the hat uncertainly, as if sure she had heard it incorrectly. With a brief nod from Professor McGonagall, she strode to the Slytherin table while deliberately avoiding eye contact with any Gryffindors.

When McGonagall had taken away the sorting hat, Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the students. With a jolly "Tuck in!" the feast began as food of every sort imaginable appeared before their eyes. Everyone helped themselves enthusiastically.

"So . . . erm, interesting ceremony," James commented weakly, attempting to break the silence that had covered the Gryffindor table as he reached for the pork chops.

"What are we going to do, Ian?" Evelyn burst out. "What will Mum and Dad say? They just assume she'll be a Gryffindor. Reckon this'll be a nasty shock for them to handle. I don't suppose they'll just accept it with open arms."

"I really don't know what will happen. I'm more worried about Jillian over there than our parents' reactions, though." Ian cast a dark glance at his younger sister, who was silently pushing food around on her plate and looking positively miserable. "I don't trust the lot of them—they're into dark magic, for Merlin's sake! What kind of place is that for her? They'll corrupt her," he added bitterly.

"Lighten up, Wood. Slytherin's—not—so—bad." Sirius forced each word without any real conviction; rather, he looked amazed that he'd even said anything of the sort.

"As if you could go a day without insulting the lot of them," pointed out Beatrice.

"Only because they deserve it," insisted Sirius.

"Like _Snivellus_ over there," James added with disdain.

"And _you_ wield the authority to deem who 'deserves it'?" Lily asked coldly.

"With Snape, yes."

"Why, you arrogant, infuriating,—"

"There goes your brilliant theory, Prongs," Remus indicated softly with a trace of amusement.

"—insensitive git! Have you no shame within your thick head at all? What gives _you_ the right to decide who should or should not be punished? You're no prefect—you're nothing but a bullying toerag, Potter! And another thing—"

But James wasn't even taking in what she was saying at all, although he knew he undoubtedly should be. He was too busy contemplating other—and definitely more incriminating—things.

_Ah, Evans, you look so beautiful when you yell so angrily at me. The way your brilliant eyes light up, how your nostrils flare, how your cheeks turn pink with frustration, how your red hair flies about as you toss it indignantly. . . . Almost makes a bloke want to screw up intentionally. _

_**Almost**. _

"—and you're not even listening to me!" James adoring stare was disrupted by an irate Lily Evans. _Yup, she's definitely pissed. _His hand jumped to his hair, but he promptly removed it as her glower—if it was possible—intensified.

"Sure I was. You called me a git and then started yelling." He winced under her intimidating stature—her fists were clenched, her brows knitted fiercely, and her eyes narrowed. "A lot," he added faintly.

"James Potter, you are absolutely hopeless!" She stalked off towards the other end of the table, where Natalie and a few younger girls were busy enjoying the feast.

_Well, I think that went considerably well_, James thought dully, but as he remembered what she'd actually said, his smile dropped to a gloomy frown. _Okay maybe I **do** do those things, but still . . . she's being a little melodramatic. So what if I curse Snivelly every now and then? It's only 'cause he's a complete git and he deserves it—he's a Slytherin! He'd hex me if I didn't hex him! Still, I think she's being a bit harsh . . . I mean, I'm not a **complete **prat **all** the time. I happen to think I'm quite a charming chap. And I'm not the only one who thinks so . . . **lots** of girls find me charming! And handsome too, of course. Plus, I practically carry the Quidditch team on my back with my awesome talent. There! See? I've got lots of redeeming qualities! So why won't Evans give me a bloody chance?_

_I think I need to stop talking to myself._

Cassandra gave James a scathing look, which slowly dissolved into pity upon seeing his solemn expression, as if he simply couldn't help screwing up when around the object of his obsession. "Did you listen to _anything_ I told you on the train?"

"Of course I did. You told me _why_ she doesn't like me, but you never said what I should _do_ about it."

She closed her eyes and covered them with her hand as if she had a bad migraine. "_Boys_—so helpless." She immediately regained her normal composure. "Alright, Potter. Here's the abbreviated version: _don't_ pick on anyone, _don't_ hex anyone, _don't_ show off all the time, _don't_ mess up your hair, _don't_ tell her she's beautiful, _don't_ flirt with her, _don't_ ask her out. . . . I think that about covers all the basics. Any questions?"

"Is there anything I _can_ do?" he asked with desperation.

"It depends."

"_On what_?"

"On how badly you want her to give you a chance," she replied as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. She paused to let it sink in and then elaborated. "If you're seriously determined to be with her, you'll have to do some growing up this year. If you're not willing to truly change for her, then you might as well forget about her right now. However," she continued, in an undertone that only James could hear, "I happen to think you _can_ change, James, because I'm one of the few here who recognize that you're intentions go far beyond a simple snog. You really like her, don't you?" His speechlessness confirmed his answer, and prompted her to continue. "Give it time, James. Make her see that you're worth it.

"Oh, and here's a bit of advice," she added with an afterthought. "You could start by using her _actual_ name. You _do_ realize it's _'Lily_,' right?"

And without waiting for a reply, she abruptly turned around to converse with some other Gryffindor girls, leaving James utterly nonplussed.

What in the world was_ that? _Since _when_ did _Cassandra Basil_ get to know him so well? _Sure_, she was his good friend—one of the few girls James viewed with strictly platonic intentions, in fact (which is saying something)—and _sure_, she was one of the few who surprisingly found humor in the Marauders' pranks, but how could she make James feel as if she knew everything about him?

_But she's right_, James admitted, _I do like Evans. A lot. She just doesn't think I do. _

_Bloody hell._

James began to contemplate everything she'd just said. _If my feelings about her so damn obvious to Cassandra, then why can't Evans—who happens to be quite close to her anyway—see that my feelings about her are **genuine**? I don't understand girls._

James listened as Cassandra's words still echoed in his ears: _"If you're seriously determined to be with her, you'll have to do some growing up this year. . . ."_ _Grow up? What in the world does that mean?_ _How do I do that? _But, whatever it meant, James was suddenly overcome with determination to do it. No matter what. He wanted Lily to see he could change. He'd show her he could be a nice guy—a bloke she'd want to go out with. _She'll practically be **begging** to go out with me after I show her. . . . Alright, maybe not._

"_Make her see that you're worth it." . . . But how?_

"Potter, pass the rice pudding, would you?" said a feminine voice further down the table. Apparently, dessert had already begun while James was busy brooding.

"No problem, Fountaine. Congrats on making captain, by the way."

She thanked him and began scooping some onto her plate as he handed it over. Gwen Fountaine was a tall girl with very short, bushy hair. A Quidditch-obsessed Chaser, she was quite fit and athletic. She could be deathly intimidating when she wanted to be (as James knew, unfortunately, from personal experience), and James was really pleased that she made captain during her last year at Hogwarts.

A few moments later, she addressed him once again.

"Don't forget, Quidditch practice starts this week. I want us to be extra prepared for the first match against Slytherin this year—no surprises like last year where they sent that Bludger at McKinnon, the cheaters," she added bitterly. "I want us to be ready for _anything_. This year we'll make certain we _flatten_ every opposing team, no question.

"Oh, and practice starts next Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday after dinner, so _don't forget_!" She added, finishing her little speech a little exasperated—a side-effect of having Quidditch on the brain, James supposed.

"Know of any possible replacements for the Seeker and Beater positions, yet?" he inquired curiously.

"Not yet. We'll choose them in a week; they can join practices then. I'm not worried about the new Seeker working with us; they work alone. Just hope we find a decent one this year. We'll have to find a new Beater to work well with Wood, though. Any ideas?"

"I think Hugh Douglas is trying out; fourth year. He'd make a decent Beater," James offered.

"Excellent. I'm _really_ looking forward to this year, Potter. It's going to be a great season." James nodded his agreement. "Any idea who's trying out for Seeker?" she added excitedly.

Before James could answer, the voices around him fell silent once more and his attention was diverted back to the front.

At last, Dumbledore stood up and began to speak once the food had disappeared from the platters, the students groaning under the heavy meals they had just consumed.

"Welcome back, students, to another year at Hogwarts! I have some brief start of term notices and then you all may adjourn to your respective houses to get some shut-eye. First, will the first years kindly take notice that the forest on the Hogwarts grounds is strictly forbidden, which is out-of-bounds to all students. Next, the caretaker Mr. Filch wishes to remind everyone that there is a 'no magic' policy between classes and, for a list of forbidden items, please refer to his office."—his eyes twinkled as they briefly rested on four sixteen-year-old Gryffindor boys—"Lastly, Quidditch tryouts will be held during the second week of school. Anyone wishing to try out will please see Madam Hooch.

"That is all. Pleasant dreams!"

The buzz of the Great Hall grew excitedly once more as the students rose from their table, thronging into the Entrance Hall. The anxious first years began following their respective house prefects, who were properly instructed to lead everyone to their Common Room and reveal the password for that term.

Lily and Remus, along with the fifth year prefects, began leading the first years to the Gryffindor Common Room in Gryffindor tower. The young students openly goggled at the wondrous sights before them: numerous portraits began waving amiably from with their frame as the students passed; they observed enchanted suits of armor that were rumored to have walking abilities; a few transparent ghosts floated by, introducing themselves to the new youngsters (Nearly-Headless Nick, to the first years horror and disgust, gave a live demonstration on the origin of his nickname) and welcoming back the older ones; Peeves the Poltergeist came bobbing through a corridor, cackling maniacally as he released—to Filch's sheer fury—a dozen dungbombs as the students passed, to which they immediately fled until they were out of Peeves' range; the myriad of stairways suddenly changed direction midway, often deterring a student from their destination. Even Lily couldn't help but feel appreciation for her magical surroundings, being trapped in a Muggle dwelling for two solid months.

At long last, after ascending the final set of stairs to the Common Room, they had reached the entrance, secured by a painting of an old woman clad in a pink silk dress. The Fat Lady's portrait swung open to admit them as Lily revealed the new password ("Nargles!"). The students filed in orderly, the prefects instructing the first years where the boys' and girls' dormitories were.

Upon entering the common room, James quickly attempted to engage Lily in a conversation again, but she, catching sight of him, hastily dashed off to the girls' chambers with the rest of her giggling friends. _Girls and their ruddy gossip_. . . . _Hey,_ w_onder if they're talking about yours truly_? he mused, grinning slyly. Evans is probably still fuming about earlier though. . . .

Suddenly overcome with a mixture of frustration and fatigue, James quietly followed the rest of the Marauders to their room.

He immediately collapsed on his four-poster bed, exhausted, not bothering to unpack his things; his energy seemed drained since his previous encounter with a pretty, but fiery-tempered witch.

"What's up, Prongs?" Peter asked with concern.

"I'd say he has a bad case of Lily-on-the-brain," Remus supplied nonchalantly.

Sirius furtively caught Remus's eye, grinning roguishly. "You know, Prongs, I do believe Madam Pomfrey has a remedy for that."

"Shut it," James said moodily, allowing his disposition to relax into dejection. "I just . . . don't understand her is all. I mean, _lots_ of girls would _kill_ to go out with me. So why won't _she_?"

"I'd say it's because Lily's a different sort of girl—one that happens to repel your—er—_charms_."

Sirius scoffed. "Then she's not _so_ different. . . ."

James ignored him. "Different how?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Ah, now _that_ is something that even the 'great Remus Lupin' cannot answer—" He ignored James' eye rolling. "—as I can't speak for Lily herself. What I _do_ know is that she isn't one to overlook your . . . _lesser_ redeeming qualities just because you're—let's say—a popular Quidditch star. That doesn't matter to her. She values more _important_ things."

"Such as . . . ?" James prompted.

"Such as kindness . . . compassion . . . a sense of leadership . . . devotion . . . I s'pose a certain knack for showing romantic gestures. . . ." said Remus pensively, ticking them off on his fingers.

"Hey, I'll have you know I can be quite a romantic chap!" protested James.

"Yes, and we've seen the consequences of said gestures from Lily Evans' temper to know just how 'romantic' you are. Not a pretty sight . . ." commented Peter, snickering.

"Getting back to the point," interrupted Remus, refocusing on James' dilemma, "Prongs, you're going to have to find out what exactly Lily wants in order to stand a chance—find out how you're going to have to change for her. Because that's what you'll have to do if you're serious about her: change. You're going to have to prove to her that your affections are real."

James, letting out a hopeless groan, threw himself dramatically backward onto his bed as he exhausted his vocabulary of swearwords in one long breath.

_Great. Now I have to change for her. But before I can even do that, I have to figure out **how**. And it's not like that will be even remotely easy, as I have no idea what she wants. Bloody hell, Evans, you better be worth my sanity. . . . And now I'm talking to myself again. Just effing fantastic—I'm not even safe from her in my own mind._

Sirius, who had remained unusually silent, was eyeing James beadily as Remus had been advising him. He voiced his concerns. "I don't get you, mate. There are _loads_ of other girls at Hogwarts—well, except the numerous amount that want me, of course—" Everyone rolled their eyes and James chucked a book at him. "—who _would_ go out with you without giving you the trouble Evans gives. Why must you insist on dating the one girl that hates you wholeheartedly?" When James scowled, Sirius added, "It's a fair question."

"He's got a point, you know," said Peter. "Maybe you should move on, Prongs, find some other—I dunno—actually _interested_ girl. You're in luck; I happen to know that Mackenzie Fisher from Ravenclaw is single."

James looked scandalized._ Since when have **I** ever given up a challenge?_ _Although, that's not all Evans—I mean **Lily**—is to me. She's . . . well, she's fascinating. Me? Give up? Never! _"First of all, I am _not_ moving on. I really _am_ serious about Lily. Secondly—since _when_ have you been in league with the Hogwarts gossip chain, Wormtail?" He raised his eyebrows. "What _have_ you been up to, mate?"

"N—Nothing of the sort, of course!" squeaked Peter. "I found out from her roommate—you know—Beverly Moore—I dated her last term, remember? Well Beverly told me she—Mackenzie, that is—had her eye on you, and I'm just, you know, passing along the message. Not that I'm obligated too; we're not together anymore. Just thought you ought to know is all," he added weakly.

Eyeing Peter skeptically, James decreed, "Besides, I don't need someone to find me a date. Evans will come around soon."

_I hope_, he added_. Well, let's just cross our fingers and hope I don't screw it up enormously._

"Whatever you say. . . ." Sirius said under his breath.

Peter smirked. "Right, Prongs. The likelihood of that statement coming true is about the same as the Slytherins getting chummy with the Muggleborns—that is to say, less than zero, mate."

Scowling, James launched a pillow at Peter, who didn't duck in time and was hit smack in the face, feathers flying about their room. Peter wisely armed himself with his own pillow, preparing for battle if the situation turned for the worse.

Unintentionally, Peter's comment weighed on one of the Marauders' conscience more than the speaker's intention—the subject of it being a dull reminder of his own ancestry.

Exhaling deeply, Sirius said heavily, "How can I go on ignoring the fact that my own family's part of that problem? With Muggleborns, that is," he added when he received confused stares.

He continued. "Look at my brother. He blindly follows my parents and believes that load of crap about Pureblood superiority. What the hell does ancestry have to do with inferiority? Look at Evans—she Muggleborn, but she's the smartest witch in this whole bloody school, smarter than any _Pureblood_ here!" He practically spat the word, caught up in his own anger. Once his stormy grey eyes abated he resumed in a much softer, more pained tone. "I just," he sighed. "I just wish I wasn't apart of my pureblood-crazed family. I'm _nothing_ like them."

_Wow, and I though my 'Evans' problems were bad_, James thought guiltily. The rest of the Marauders looked at Sirius pityingly. They didn't know quite how to respond to his unexpected—though perfectly justified—outburst, so they remained silent for a moment, contemplating the weight of his words.

"Everyone knows that, Padfoot. _We_ know it. It's not your fault—you're not personally doing anything wrong," said Remus softly, breaking the silence.

"It doesn't seem enough sometimes," Sirius replied sulkily.

"Maybe not," said James earnestly. "But you're right—you're _not_ like them. Your parents—and your brother even—may think that way, but _you_ don't. The hat put you in Gryffindor, didn't it?"

"Well, maybe it was wrong; maybe I belong in Slytherin with my stupid brother."

James eyed him sympathetically. "You don't mean that, Sirius." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No. I s'pose I don't," he replied unconvincingly.

"You can't help who parents are no more than a Muggleborn can help their parents being Muggles. It's just . . . how it is."

Once again, they were silent as Sirius pondered Remus's words. Each knew that Remus was right, but couldn't help feel sorry for Sirius's plight all the same. They didn't have family's that rejected him because they had been sorted differently or because they'd gone against the family norm to embrace their fellow wizards as equals. It was a cruel twist of fate, James observed, that Sirius was an outcast with his own relatives and completely accepted as a fellow Marauder.

_So that's the way it is_, James mused_; the prejudice works both ways: Purebloods can't see Muggleborns as equals, yet sometimes Purebloods are all stereotyped as holding that prejudice._ James sighed. _When did we start hating each other?_

James shifted his view to glimpse Sirius; he staring determinately at the ground, his hands fidgeting restlessly in his lap. It didn't hit James until that moment how lucky he was to have a family that loved him unconditionally, no matter what. He didn't ever have to look so down as Sirius did at that moment.

"Cheer up, Padfoot," James said sympathetically, giving Sirius an affectionate punch on the shoulder. "You'll always have _us_ as your family. Marauder-hood is much deeper than blood, mate."

It seemed to be enough for Sirius; he slowly turned around to face James, flashing him a weak smile, and then turning to Peter and Remus to give them the same—a unspoken gesture of his gratitude. They understood its significance without communicating, so unique was the bond of brotherhood they shared.

Sirius simply reveled in James' words: he had family—three brothers who would go to any length to see him happy. Sure, his parents and his brother didn't care about him, but he was actually quite lucky; who needed them when he had something right in front of him that was ten times better?

His smile continued to grow with the thought, until he unexpectedly began to double up with laughter. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden, everything—especially his prior useless brooding—seemed ten times funnier, almost as if everything was in a completely different light. And he felt strangely happier. . . . It was almost as if he was suddenly overcome with a new emotion he hadn't realized was there before. Was it . . . _love_?

In an instant he realized he'd had it all along.

The rest, surprised—yet grateful—at his quick change of heart, seized the opportune jubilation, unsure of what they were laughing at, but knowing they didn't want to—and couldn't—stop. It was somewhat pointless, they realized, seeing as how the message that Sirius was no longer sulking had clearly been received. They simply didn't care.

As the laughing finally did subside, it was with great effort through lack of oxygen and stitches in their side that they finally regained control of their vocal cords.

"Wow."

"Yeah. . . ."

"You said it."

"Say Moony, when's the first outing of the year?" James seized the opportunity to change the subject, gasping for air after a few final chuckles.

Each month the four boys made arrangements to carefully execute their newly formulated plan to keep Remus company as he transformed into a werewolf each Full Moon, which they had unofficially dubbed the 'outing'. They would sneak out using James' inherited invisibility cloak and make their way to the Whomping Willow, the violent tree that guarded the underground pathway to the Shrieking Shack, Remus's designated transformation site which other students believed to be haunted.

In Remus's werewolf state, he could only safely surround himself with animals; humans he would unknowingly attack. His mind would not recall the incident when he had awoken.

So, after his friends discovered his 'condition' in second year (to which he was utterly thankful that his friends had not abandoned him immediately), they committed themselves to studying and training to become illegal Animagi to make his transformation a little more bearable. They had only just managed the task last year, in fact, and found—to their intense relief—that the plan had been a complete success.

"The night of the eleventh," replied Remus darkly when he too had regained control of his lungs.

"It's a good thing no one knows what we're doing," Peter added in a whisper, despite the fact that they were quite alone and secrecy was hardly an issue. "If anyone knew we were sneaking out and transforming illegally, we'd probably bypass expulsion and be sent straight to Azkaban." Peter shuddered.

Sirius beamed confidently at Remus. "It's worth it though, to help Moony out." Remus smiled hesitantly. "Not to mention it was right satisfying to accomplish. It's a very complicated process, after all. Too bad it's totally illegal, otherwise I could brag about this to the ladies." He wagged his eyebrows, grinning—a clear indication that he had surely forsaken dwelling on his family.

"Maybe _you_ would," said Remus heavily. "Wish I could say the same."

"What, girls don't find that wolfish edginess sexy?"

"You'd be surprised. Not that I've bothered to tell any. I actually _want_ them to stick around."

"Not everyone's like that, Moony. _We_ stuck around," pointed out James.

"To which I'm eternally grateful. But let's be serious. How many others do you think would do the same without running away screaming in the opposite direction?" Remus asked rhetorically.

"Er. . . ."

"Exactly."

"So your plan is to—what?—not get close to anyone? Or simply not tell anyone? Not that they won't figure it out eventually, in which they'll just leave you for lying, not because you're a were—"

"I plan on telling them—that is, whomever I get close to—eventually. Before it's serious," interjected Remus earnestly.

"Like me?" asked Sirius, smirking.

Remus raised his eyebrow in confusion. "What? No, like—oh. That's the stupidest joke ever, Padfoot, honestly."

"No, it isn't. I'll have you know the girls find it completely hilarious. I have them in stitches with my dashing sense of humor."

"I highly doubt _that's_ what they're laughing at that, Sirius. _Seriously_."

"Moony, I'm deeply hurt. You've forever shattered my confidence, wounded my pride, destroyed my—"

"Padfoot, shut up."

Folding his arms, Sirius a small "Hmph!" before replying. "I'm so underappreciated here."

"Why don't you go find one of your girlfriends to comfort you, then? I'm sure you can find some appreciation there. Hmm . . . I'm can't quite remember, which girl is it _this_ week?"

"I'm not _that_ uncommitted. I just have fickle tastes." His voice wasn't even remotely convincing; rather, he actually sounded proud of that statement.

Remus shook his head indifferently. "I don't get you, mate."

"'Bout time you admitted defeat," said Peter.

"Anyway," announced James loudly, effectively receiving the trio's full attention. "I think now it's time we discussed the highlight of the new school year. It's that time of year again, gentlemen. . . . The one we look forward to every year—our first-day-of-school prank! We need something big—yet . . . classic. Any suggestions?"

"Turn the Slytherin ties red and gold?"

"Engorge Snape's nose to twice its abnormally huge self?"

"Release a pack of pixies during Binns' class?"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "The tie thing got old after the third time last year. . . . We couldn't effectively carry pixies into Binns' class without being caught anyway, even if he _is_ completely oblivious. . . . Engorging Snape's nose holds potential, though. No, this year's has to be _huge_!"

"Unless . . ." James said pensively, suddenly inspired.

The reaction was immediate; everyone turned to face him with rapt curiosity.

"Don't keep us in suspense, Prongs," said Peter impatiently.

"What if," James said slowly, "What _if_ . . . we do something a little different this year, mates? Instead of _one_ huge prank like we've done in the past where the fun's all over after it's been had, we could do _multiple_ pranks—you know—catch people off guard who aren't expecting more than one. It'll be spectacular! Everyone will know the infamous Marauders haven't lost their touch, sealing our reputations as Hogwarts' greatest pranksters in history! This school will never know what hit them." James finished excitedly, a triumphant grin on his face.

They each began murmuring their assent, eager to begin planning which jinxes to use, what supplies they'd need, how to best conceal their identity, and so on.

"Why didn't we think to do this sooner?"

"Who cares? It'll be bloody brilliant!"

"Come tomorrow, they won't soon forget the year the Marauders came to Hogwarts."

"That's for certain, not when we're through with them."

And with that, they began the very long and exciting process of planning the events that would take place the following day. They stayed up late into the night, throwing out ideas, nixing the ones that didn't hold up to their standard. They kept an ongoing list of the day's pranks, ready to put their plan into action as soon as it became morning.

The adrenaline rush from all their excitement succeeded in keeping them wide awake as they purposely disregarded the fact that they would have to get up early to be ready for class—or, rather—their first prank of the day. Once all plans had been assured, they called it quits for the night.

"Let's go to the kitchens," suggested Sirius. "I'm _hungry_."

"What else is new . . ." James muttered, but proceeded to retrieve the invisibility cloak for their first curfew-breaking adventure of the year to said kitchens.

_Ah yes_, James mused, _it finally begins.

* * *

_

A/N: Ta da! So whadaya think? Please leaves reviews, they mean a lot to me, really. It's what keeps me excited about writing the next chapter (even though I've already written through ch. 4... hehe).

By the way, I feel I should say that this fic wouldn't even be possible (unless I did endless amounts of research on my own) without the HP Lexicon, which is where I base pretty much all my facts on (plus JKR's books). That place is the best, and if you haven't been there, I urge you to go, you won't be disappointed! Thank you HPL!

Oh, and go to MuggleNet too. Love that place. I'll stop promoting fansites now.

I also want to thank my first six reviewers (you guys absolutely made my day!), and if it weren't 4:30 in the morning right now, I'd be writing you guys individual thank you's. Seriously, you made me feel so wonderful when you told me you liked my fic, it was like the best feeling ever, so THANK YOU! I love you guys!

And, of course, please please pleeeease review!

Oh, one last thing: this story will, unfortunately, no longer be cannon when HBP comes out (I'm so freaking excited!) but I hope you guys can look past that and keep reading this, otherwise I'd be sad. And if you're a stickler for cannon, like I am, believe me, my sympathies are with you, but PLEASE do not abandon my fic! I shall be eternally grateful if you stick with it, as I'm hoping you won't be disappointed.

Next chapter: Mischief and Merriment (yay! some Marauder pranks firsthand!)


	3. Mischief and Merriment

**The Marauders and the Year of Dark Uprising**

Summary: We all know Lily and James are destined for each other. But just how does James convince Lily that he really has changed in order for her to give him a chance? Follow the Marauders, Lily, and her friends as their sixth year begins. How do nine teenagers cope with the strange things happening with the rise of a Dark Lord, and the pranking chaos that ensues, and the dramatic twists of their love lives? Read (and review, of course) to find out. Title subject to change. Rating (for language mostly) just to be safe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hey, guys! JKR here, writing this fanfic while I neglect my duty of finishing the actual HP series! Totally joking. But you were convinced, right? I'm touched. I can assure you, I am not the genius known as J. K. Rowling, and if I were, I wouldn't be writing on a fan site. I'm not her, so don't sue.

A/N: Hey guys! This will probably be the last post for awhile, due to HBP coming out and all. Sigh Then my fic will be somewhat AU. Hopefully you guys stick with me! Alrighty, on with the chapter!

By the way, please forgive and spelling/grammatical errors you encounter, I'm sure there are some in there. That's what I get for editting at 4:00 in the morning...

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Mischief and Merriment**_

"Get up, you great prat!" Remus yelled exasperatedly, whacking his pillow forcefully down on James' head for the third time that morning, all to no avail whatsoever; James remained as immobile as ever, attempting to ignore what felt like the drowsy symptoms of a vengeful hangover . . . and Remus's incessant nagging. "Pillock, have you completely forgotten what _today_ is?"

_I don't care if it's bloody Christmas morning, just leave me to sleep in peace_, James begged silently. He gave an impressive groan in protest and promptly rolled onto his stomach, further shielding his face from in his fluffy white pillow.

Smiling, he recalled the wonderful dream he'd been having, until a certain impatient boy stirred him awake. He had been talking with Lily about something . . . he couldn't remember what. That wasn't what was important anyway. All that mattered was that she was looking at him . . . directly into his eyes . . . and she was _smiling_. That had been the best part—her smile. It made him feel as if he had just drunken a Butterbeer—he had gotten that warm and soothing feeling just by seeing it and knowing that she had smiled for _him_, James Potter, the guy who'd been watching her since fourth year and would never go out with. _Merlin, it was amazing . . . too bad she won't smile like that at me in real life, eh? _he asked no one in particular.

Remus sighed, frustrated. "Oh, no you don't, Prongs. Up you get." And with that, he brandished his feathery weapon once more, wielding it more powerfully than ever on the back of James' disheveled head. He remained still.

Although James' only produced a string of incoherent muttering muffled through his "shield," Remus could have sworn it sounded distinctly like "bugger off." He had no intentions of complying, of course.

"The first prank of the year is this morning! We have to get down to the Great Hall just as breakfast starts. . . . Ringing any bells, Prongs?" Sirius asked as if speaking to a five year old.

Ignoring him, James whined from the comfort of his pillow, "Why am I so _tired_?"

"Given the fact that we've had around two hours of sleep," interjected Sirius, grimacing slightly due to James' irritating tone, "I'd say there's a high possibility we're completely knackered because we stayed up all night whilst planning this day out to every last detail."

Utterly whipped, James disregarded Sirius's mockery and simply gave a grunt in response.

"Prongs, if you don't get up now, I'm afraid I'll have to resort to . . . _drastic measures_," warned Sirius. James couldn't see, but he was dead certain Sirius had been grinning evilly as he said that. _Oh crap._

And sure enough, before James could even respond (grunt or otherwise), Sirius decisively marched to the dormitory window and gave a forceful yank to draw the curtains open, allowing the morning beams of sunlight to flood into their bedroom. James, his head currently taking refuge into his pillow, could scarcely make out what had just happened and therefore remained quite still again.

But Sirius wasn't finished.

Taking James completely by surprise, Sirius furtively grabbed the bed sheets from James' four-poster and gave them a mighty tug before they flew clear off the bed, leaving a very cold, very pissed James Potter buried in his pillow. _Damn it, Sirius!_

"I'll give you five seconds before I hex you . . . and I'm warning you, Evans will find it highly amusing," said Sirius. He sounded suspiciously as if either choice James picked would suit Sirius just fine.

_Damn_, thought James_. Too bad my wand's so far away . . . ._

He reluctantly sighed, admitting defeat.

"Alright. Alright! I'm up, guys."

Exhausting a series of profanity, James, his face still consumed by his pillow, blindly reached out in search of his glasses. After sitting up and rubbing his eyes thoroughly, he jammed them onto his face groggily. He took a moment to try and flatten his scraggly hair, but he needn't have bothered; his morning bed-hair looked messier than ever, though his attempts to get it to do otherwise—whether combed or not—were always futile.

"Nice of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty. You're looking quite lovely this morning," commented Remus brightly in a voice that was far too chipper at such an ungodly hour. James winced.

"Moony, will you quick talking like that? Your excessive perkiness is positively _killing_ my very sensitive ears."

"But Prongs, today is such a happy day! Today we make pranking history!" Remus cried cheerfully, throwing his arms enthusiastically in the air.

"Not if I kill you before the time arrives."

"Then I shall continue with my normal perkiness, thank you, in the hopes that it will kill you first."

"You better duck, Lupin," warned James as he quickly aimed and pelted a pillowed straight at Remus's head; it was a direct hit.

"You're gonna pay for that, Potter," he warned, vanishing James' victorious grin.

Remus decisively grabbed James' discarded pillow and prepared for retaliation. He targeted it at James, who narrowly avoiding being hit as he ducked (thanks to his quick Quidditch reflexes). James' next throw, however, inadvertently hit Sirius smack in the face when Remus dodged a particularly fast throw diving behind his four-poster. Remus—when opportune—rapidly returned fire.

Soon, an all out pillow fight had commenced between the two Marauders as they continually armed themselves with more and more pillows, beating each other senseless with them. The floor was littered with stray feathers from the busted pillows and even more joined them as the pandemonium increased with the addition of the other two boys whom had been carefully observing from the sidelines.

"Padfoot, give me a hand here, would you?" Remus yelled amidst the amounting chaos in the room. James had just hit him squarely in the face with three pillows at once after he finally remembered the use of his wand and the convenient Banishing Charm. "I need backup! He's—too—much—for—me—alone. . . ." he finished melodramatically, feigning a painful wound as he placed a hand over his heart.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" Sirius cried enthusiastically as he seized the pillow next to him.

Remus eyed him uncertainly. "What are you talking about? You sound like a damn pirate!"

"What? Do you think an eye patch would add to my already sexy-self?" asked Sirius earnestly. "Or maybe—"

Remus would have doubled over in laughter at the expense of his second-in-command, but another pillow from James—which hit Remus in the back of the head—caught him off guard. Scowling good-naturedly, Remus whipped around to face him, Sirius following suit.

"No fair, you cheaters!" James shouted from across the dormitory. "Wormtail! Come help _me_!"

Eager to be of use, Peter quickly complied as he scampered over to join James, launching a pillow at Sirius; however, he simply caught it in midair and began chasing a frantic Peter around the room while repeatedly beating him very enthusiastically with it.

Caught unawares by flying ammunition from Remus, Peter eventually managed to trip over James while trying to avoid it, causing them to both topple over in a defeated heap, each groaning in exhaustion; Sirius landed painfully on top as he stumbled over the tangled pair. Remus walked over, eyeing them all curiously as he triumphantly held up his own pillow high in the air.

"Looks like we have a winner here, mates!" Remus declared victoriously.

Sirius interrupted his celebratory dance as he reached out a hand to pull him on top of the straggling pile of fatigued wizards.

"Not so victorious now, eh, Moony?"

"As fun as this is," interrupted Peter breathlessly, "James has his hand in a _very_ unwanted area, so if you lot don't mind. . . ."

"Well," said James, trying to smooth down his disheveled hair as they all finished disentangling themselves, "that's _one_ way to start the new school year."

"Yes, quite unexpected," agreed Remus, grinning.

"Shall we go to breakfast, mates?"

"I think we shall," said Sirius brightly, his face twisted into a mischievous grin. "Wouldn't want to keep _Snivellus_ waiting. . . ."

* * *

After Lily agreed to meet her friends in the Great Hall once she'd gotten ready, she eagerly pulled on her best set of school robes—freshly pressed by her mother before she left for her sixth year away at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Smoothing out the last trace of a wrinkle, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror; a smiling redhead stared back into her dazzling almond-shaped eyes. 

"Not too shabby," she mused to herself out loud, striking a small pose.

"I quite agree, dear, you look positively lovely this morning!" confirmed the mirror in a sincere voice.

Smiling bashfully, Lily returned to examining her physique critically. She frowned; sighing exasperatedly, she paused to give her crooked tie a satisfying adjustment.

Lily knew she was being silly to obsess over such trivial details, but she couldn't help it; she wanted her first day back to be absolutely perfect, and somehow looking her best just made her _feel_ successful. Perhaps she simply wanted her outward appearance to reflect her inner confidence. Perhaps it was the perfectionist within her. Perhaps she was just crazy.

She shook the thought off, proceeding to get ready. Her thoughts drifting, they naturally landed on what her day would hold for her—what the first lesson would be, what her schedule was, whether or not she'd see Hagrid that day, and so on. She immediately made a mental note to visit Hagrid's hut as soon as her busy schedule allowed; his latest letter over the summer had invited her to do just that.

After hastily securing her long red curls into a neat ponytail, she was ready. She promptly hoisted her book bag over her shoulder and set out for the Great Hall to join her fellow Gryffindor room mates for a spot of breakfast before heading to her first lesson of the term.

Passing through the porthole, Lily strolled at a leisurely pace, unable to keep the bounce out of her stride, beaming with happiness. Everything surrounding her suddenly seamed a joyous gift that she'd been blessed with, almost as if Lily's Christmas came on September the second—the first day of school.

_Finally,_ thought Lily, _it's the first day back. I've been waiting for this day for two months. . . . No Petunia annoying me . . . reunited with all my friends . . . classes begin right after breakfast. Why **wouldn't** I be happy?_

Lily's cheery aura seemed to radiate from her with an infectious nature. As she politely greeted a sixth year Ravenclaw that she talked to and studied with occasionally, the smile Lily received from her lightened her heart all the more. When she caught two heated third years—a Gryffindor and a Slytherin—dueling in a corridor, she simply told them off and left them with a warning; she had mercifully decided to take points from neither house. And even when Narcissa Black shouting "Hey, Mudblood!" in passing, Lily merely turned a deaf ear, denying the Slytherin the satisfying knowledge that her taunts had nettled Lily in the least. Lily knew better than to let such a thing happen—it was simply in her nature to let no one, especially a bullying Slytherin, get the best of Lily Evans.

So she continued walking, holding her head up proudly as she approached her destination. It seemed nothing—not even hearing the 'M' word—could extinguish Lily's positive disposition.

She entered the Great Hall, the familiar sound of chattering and laughter making her feel right at home—for the castle made a much more endearing home than the suburban one she shared with her unbearable sister, especially when you had true friends to share it with for the whole school year.

Spotting them, she strode over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat across from Natalie, Beatrice, and Cassandra. From the looks of it, they had just arrived perhaps a few moments earlier, as breakfast had just begun to appear on the tables.

"Good morning, Lily. Ready for c—c—classes?" greeted Natalie, stifling a yawn.

"Of course she is," interrupted Cassandra. "This is _Lily Evans_ you're talking to, as in the epitome of preparedness, being our future Head Girl and all."

Lily simply smiled at the compliment as she helped herself to some porridge and grabbed herself a sixth year class schedule to peruse.

"I see we've got Charms first this morning," said Natalie.

Cassandra sighed. "Yes . . . should be a blast," she remarked dryly.

Lily opened her mouth to join in, when a recognizable voice cut her off.

"Morning, Evans!" James Potter had just appeared at her side, grinning cheekily at her.

"Potter," addressed Lily curtly, resuming conversation with her friends. _And just when I thought nothing could ruin this perfect day for me, he has to go and contradict me. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away. . . ._

James didn't seem fazed. He continued, "I trust you're doing well, as usual, yes?"

Lily was about to snap, "I _was_," until she whirled back around and made the mistake of meeting his gaze; for the first time since she could remember, his face seemed to be filled with—was it genuine _interest_?_ Is James Potter actually trying to make small talk with me_? Lily resisted a scoff at the absurd though. _James Potter is only interested in himself, after all, so why would he **actually** care?_

Lily wasn't quite sure how to reply; was he being sincere or just badgering her as usual? _Only one way to find out, I s'pose._

"Quite well, actually," she offered skeptically, as if afraid she were answering a trick question from one of McGonagall's tough exams. His hazel eyes seemed expectant; she supposed he wanted the same question in return. _It seems he actually **is** trying to make conversation. . . . Oh well, maybe if I oblige him, he'll be satisfied and finally leave me in peace!_ Reluctantly, she continued after sampling her porridge, "And you—urgh!"

She immediately spat out her morning porridge—only, it wasn't porridge at all.

The remains of a Cockroach Cluster lay before a pair of flashing emerald eyes.

Once the rest of the Great Hall cottoned on, they either looked disgusted or very amused at Lily's expense. Beatrice and Natalie looked revolted at Lily's sudden and grotesque outburst while Cassandra tried to muffle her giggling.

James doubled over in laughter and then turned around once able and yelled, "Sirius! Peter, Remus! It was in _Evans'_ bowl! _She_ ate it!"

"Third time's a charm, isn't that right, Evans?" Sirius asked mockingly, appearing at James' side.

Lily glowered at the duo, silently fuming more at her own forgetfulness than her current embarrassment. _Of course_, Lily berated herself_, I should have known—the first day back is **always** full of their usual troublemaking antics_._ How could I possibly forget?_

Starting with the second year, things had gotten progressively worse with the escalating tradition; Lily distinctly recalled the first day of school one year where the four troublemakers enchanted all the Library books to scream when opened, soar into an unsuspecting victim's head, and even viciously snap at students' fingers when jostled. It had been one of the first days that Lily blatantly avoided the favorite place to catch up on homework.

And the worst part in Lily's opinion, is though the identity of the guilty party was widely known, no authority figures could prove their tie to the pranks. They always get away with it, and instead of punishment they were rewarded with an enhanced reputation to follow them; being a stickler for abiding rules, this irked Lily almost as much as the prank itself.

However, something puzzled Lily this year: she was rather expecting more than a simple prank such as this.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Should have realized—first-day-back prank, of course. Although, I'm beginning to question your creativity if you have to resort to tricks you've pulled before," she smirked. "Have you already run out of new ideas this early in the year, gentlemen?"

Sirius and James exchanged identical looks of mischief. Lily suddenly felt a feeling of foreboding, realizing she hadn't quite gotten the full extent of their plan. She fixed them with her best authoritative glare, her eyes narrowing accusingly.

"Just what exactly are you—"

Someone screamed. Lily whipped around to see what had caused such an outburst, her eyes immediately landing on the source; many Slytherins were creating quite a scene—several had begun shouting hysterically, but as to what they were so upset about, Lily couldn't comprehend what it was from where she sat. Then she saw.

Several unfortunate Slytherins—including Snape, Jillian, a seventh year named Anthony Travers, and several other third and fourth years—were clutching various parts of their face that appeared to be—_swelling_, and getting larger by the second, Lily observed. She gaped as Jillian frantically tried to force her left ear back to its normal, as it had enlarged to three times its regular size. However, Snape looked the worse of the lot trying to cover his humongous nose that covered half his face.

All of the afflicted darted hastily out of the Great Hall in a blur of green and silver—presumable to the Hospital Wing—amidst the roaring laughter of the spectators of the remaining three houses.

None laughed louder than four fifth year boys sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Did you see Snivellus's face?"

"What face? All I saw was his huge greasy nose in the way! Although, I'd say it's a massive improvement."

"And that girl with the lips? They looked so big—I don't think she could even talk!"

"A few simple Engorgement Charms specially applied certainly held to our expectations, I believe."

"Reckon they won't try the porridge again so soon, will they? Not while a Marauder still attends Hogwarts, that is."

James laughed his assent, especially after noticing several Gryffindors hastily push their own breakfast aside. "Those slimy Slytherin gits got what they deserve."

Lily whirled on the guilty quartet, her eyes flashing threateningly. However, before she could even begin her predicable scolding, someone beat her to it.

SMACK!

James, completely flabbergasted, lightly touched his reddening cheek in shock, gaping at the sight before him. Evelyn Wood had just entered the Great Hall, and from the looks of her dangerous brown eyes and clenched fists, she was absolutely furious. Apparently, in the midst of her anger she had completely forgotten the use of her wand.

"How _dare_ you!" she demanded. Her voice was deathly quiet and she was breathing heavily, as if each breath was costing extra effort to prolong her enraged stamina.

James blinked, still clutching his stinging cheek, wondering how on earth to respond to such a venomous accusation, let alone one where he had no idea what he'd done to earn it. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

She angrily gestured towards the Slytherin table. "My sister's one of them! How dare you call her that!" she shouted, no longer bothering to hide the fury in her voice. "And as if insulting her wasn't enough—you _knew_ she was upset after—after last night! What the hell did you have to go and make it worse for?"

People were beginning to stare at the two Gryffindors with interest, snickering to themselves at the tense scene. Finally regaining some of his composure, James attempted to calm her, fearing that her noisy shrieking would carry to the staff table and land them both in McGonagall's office. "Look," he muttered calmly, "I shouldn't've said that, but it's not like we _hurt_ her or anything, just slightly enlarged her ear, that's all. . . ."

This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

"_Didn't hurt her?_" she screeched, causing James to wince at her harsh tone. "I don't think I've ever seen her look more upset, and if you knew her at all, you'd realize how out of character that is! You treated her like some outcast—some criminal you see fit to punish just because she was sorted differently than you! She's a person too and the way you humiliated her—it's despicable, that's what it is!"

She raised her hand to strike him again, but suddenly found she couldn't. McGonagall had rushed over to the quarreling pair to hold back the furious girl, her lips pursed and her hat slightly askew. She appeared livid.

"Miss Wood, restrain yourself at once!" she ordered crossly. After the girl reluctantly complied, McGonagall continued her vehement reprimand. "Fighting with your fellow housemates—I _certainly_ wouldn't have expected this from a _Gryffindor_ student. Explain yourself!"

If McGonagall was expecting Evelyn to look ashamed at her outburst, she expected wrong. She held her head high, still seething with anger as she stared at James defiantly. She grudgingly replied, her eyes still fixed on James, "He insulted my sister, Professor."

"Nonetheless, that does not give a student the right to condone such appalling behavior. I should hope, Miss Wood, you will remember next time to exercise some self-restraint. However, this time your serious lack of judgment has just cost Gryffindor twenty points, and you have detention Friday evening."

Evelyn looked even more outraged, her brown eyes reeling on the Deputy Headmistress. "Professor, please be reasonable, there's no need to take points—"

"Do _not_ tell me what I should and should not do, Miss Wood. You are already in enough trouble as it is without undermining my authority. The punishment stands." And with that, McGonagall strode back to the staff table leaving Evelyn spluttering in fury, unable to even set eyes on the boy she had before been so angered with.

Mercifully, the enraged girl spared the rest of her table from her temper as she stalked from the Great Hall, muttering a terse "See you in Charms" to her sixth year friends.

The attention on the Gryffindor skirmish began to dissipate with Evelyn's sudden departure, leaving the rest of the onlookers to invent their own concluding version of the story, even though only the few close enough knew what the fight had actually been about to begin with. The Slytherin table, still seething over the slight to their house pride, began snickering at the Gryffindor's own insult.

"You're idiots—all of you. You _do_ realize that, right?" asked Cassandra with a trace of annoyance.

"The slap I got kinda clued me in, thanks," said James sarcastically.

"Well _I_ thought it was funny," chimed Sirius. "Bloody hilarious, actually. That is, the part of our brilliantly planned prank that did _not_ consist of Wood's violent reaction. She shouldn't take it so personally, anyway. . . . It's not like we specifically targeted her sister. She just—er—happened to eat this morning's _special_ porridge."

"You shouldn't have done it at all!" snapped Lily. "Not only was it completely against school rules, but it was cruel trick to pull. You're just trying to make a name for yourself while hurting others in the process. When are you ever going to grow up?"

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, not quite expecting such a rebuke from her (although he had expected _some_ sort of scolding from Lily). "Lily, I think you may be blowing this entirely out of proportion. And while certain comments—" his eyes narrowed at James "—were rather unnecessary, it was all in good fun. Plus, it's tradition, and traditions have to be upheld."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Remus. You're a prefect, and you know that was totally irresponsible! Can't you keep your fellow troublemaking cohorts in line?"

James managed to shout "I resent that!" before Remus answered. "That is a power that not even I possess, Lily. Especially not when I'm a part of that trouble myself, you know," he added, a hint of pride in his voice. The four boys exchanged high fives, reveling in their success at upholding such a reputation. Lily sighed, figuring any further reprimands would prove pointless.

"I would at least advise you to at least stay away from Evelyn for awhile. She certainly knows how to hold a grudge. . . ." warned Beatrice, appearing as if she were reminiscing on a particularly noteworthy event.

Remus looked slightly abashed. "Yes, will do, of course . . ."

With that, the eight sixth years continued with their usual breakfast as if the situation hadn't even taken place. Lily and Natalie began to discuss their first Charms lesson that morning in excited whispers, wondering what would come in useful on next year's N.E.W.T.s; Beatrice and Remus exchanged polite conversation on each of their latest reads, laughing occasionally when they found they had a common interest in Muggle authors; Cassandra had seated herself closer to Peter, Sirius, and James, who began to furtively tell her of their afternoon 'plans' while she tried to muffle her laugher (Lily was eyeing them all in suspicion).

Once the owls had been relieved of their burdens, the Gryffindors dispersed and began heading for their first lesson of the term. The sixth years, along with Ravenclaw's, headed to the third floor and down the Charms corridor before finding Flitwick's classroom. They filed in and took their seats.

James dropped lazily into the seat in the last row, next to Sirius. He saw Lily slip into the seat next to Natalie, still chatting away, while Cassandra and Beatrice chose the seats behind them. Just as the bell rang, Evelyn hurriedly strode in (still appearing quite distraught) and—seeing no other vacant seat—sat next to a curly-haired Ravenclaw boy.

The hushed whispers began to die down; the tiny Professor Flitwick entered the classroom, propping himself on several thick textbooks in order to see over his desk.

Daintily clearing his throat, Flitwick began to squeak out his first instructions.

"Welcome back, sixth years! Well, let's dive right into it, shall we? We'll be discussing the various forms of Communication Concealment, so if you'd all take out your quills and copy . . ."

But James wasn't listening.

He had, however, taken out his quill, ink bottle, and parchment with which to write as instructed, but it was just for show; instead, he allowed his attention to wander freely as he pretended to be riveted by Flitwick's lecture, frequently scribbling down random phrases he caught every now and then. He wasn't the least bit interested in whatever he was supposed to be listening to.

Rather, he took to occupying himself with sketching a rough doodle depicting himself on his broomstick. He appeared to be flying fast, the Quaffle clutched tightly under his left arm, and the tiny Golden Snitch was hovering near his right ear, bearing the initials L. E. He was repeatedly retracing the lines of the Snitch, unaware of his other surroundings. He found himself reminiscing upon what Cassandra and Remus had said to him concerning a certain object of his pursuit: _If you're seriously determined to be with her, you'll have to do some growing up this year. . . . You're going to have to prove to her that your affections are real. . . . Make her see that you're worth it . . ._ But what in the world did that entail?

Without warning Sirius prodded him—quite hard—in the shoulder. James' head snapped up to see the whole class staring at him as well as Flitwick, whose white eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. _Oh goodie._

"Er . . . yes?"

"I had asked," said Flitwick, his usually high voice replaced with exasperation, "which incantation would one normally use to recover a message coded in invisible ink?"

"Oh!—_Aparecium_, Professor," James answered smugly, vaguely aware that Lily was glowering at him from the front for not paying attention and nearly losing Gryffindor house points. _Oh **why** did I have to pick the one who's such a stickler for the rules? They're just asking to be broken, anyway. . . . _She shot her a cheesy grin before he realized that that probably wouldn't win him any favors with Lily. _Damn, I can't seem to do **anything** right with her!_

Flitwick's temper seemed to alleviate immediately following James' correct answer. He launched back into his lecture as if there had been no disturbance at all, quills flying like mad across the students' parchment. James quickly lost interest once more.

He refocused on what he'd been daydreaming about, the target of his obsession: the fiery tempered redhead who wouldn't go out with him to save his life.

_Why not, though?_ he asked himself for the millionth time since she'd first refused his advances. _Okay . . . so maybe I **do** ask her out twenty times a day, and pull pranks, and maybe **sometimes** I'm a **tad** conceited. . . . But c'mon, no one's perfect! If she'd just give me one chance, she'd see that I'm a decent bloke. I mean, come on. I'm **James Potter**. **The** James 'devilishly handsome' Potter! I'm good-looking, good at Quidditch, I make top marks just like she does, I'm rich . . . Most girls would **kill** for that kind of chance! What's she waiting for, an effing celebrity? She should be **happy** for the chance to go out with me, right? Right? _He sighed.

_I don't understand her!_ He paused, contemplating what he'd just thought. _Maybe that's what my problem is—I don't know her well enough to know what she's looking for. Hmm . . . Could it really be that easy? Maybe if I just . . . well, it certainly couldn't hurt to try. . . . _

James shook his head, turning to stare at the back of Lily's head which was covered in dark-red curls. He never quite noticed before the way she casually leaned her chin on her left hand lazily, as she scribbled notes across her parchment furiously with the other. Her hair fell in long tendrils that delicately framed her back, and shimmered bright orange from the window's beams of light. James was sure that if he could see her eyes from his seat, they would be captivated with curiosity as she hung on Flitwick's every word. In James opinion, she looked absolutely exquisite.

_Yes, _James thought, _this was exactly what I need to do—to **get to know her**_. _Find out what she likes, what she doesn't like, what she values, who her family is, and even her weirdest quirks. . . . If I know that, I can finally figure out how to get her to like me! Why didn't I see this before?_ _But how do I go about observing her without—_

BOOM!

Cringing, James hesitantly raised his eyes to meet an irate Ravenclaw, whose textbook had apparently exploded—or what he had _thought_ was his textbook, that is (James knew, of course, that it had been switched with a identical copy). His face was scorched with black soot, his hair full of charred parchment bits. He seemed pretty aware of who the culprits were, as he was throwing Sirius and James a look a deepest annoyance. His fury, however, was nothing compared to the scowl Lily was throwing James, as if her green eyes could burn holes straight through his face like burning acid. Far from the angelic figure he'd just been observing, she looked livid.

_Well_, thought James, beginning to quail under her intensity, _this is going to be harder than I thought. _

He attempted a weak, apologetic smile. _Too bad that's not all we've got planned for the day. . . .

* * *

_

The rest of the day passed slowly for the more cautious ones keen to avoid further havoc. The chaos only escalated, however—if it's possible—since the shaky morning experienced at breakfast. Everyone, especially the Slytherins, were kept on their toes all day, always wary of the next unsuspecting prank that would leap out to surprise them.

For starters, everyone soon learned to avoid Filch's office for the rest of the afternoon, as several dungbombs had been set off in this site after lunch. It might have been, actually, that students were avoiding the fury of Filch rather than the actual dungbombs. He had, of course, been quite furious about the stench, and had been even more furious when he didn't have a perpetrator to punish, lashing out and interrogating random students that appeared "suspiciously happy."

The fun didn't stop there, of course. The four boys returned to their afternoon class in bright spirits, although it had nothing to do with the learning material. The simple-minded Potions Mistress, Professor Fflout, had an especially hard time keeping track of the objects in her room. When she needed her hideous reading glasses to read off potion ingredients, or when she needed to add boomslang skin and knotgrass to the simmering Polyjuice Potion she was preparing, the troublemakers took turns levitating the objects behind her back to a new location. Completely oblivious, she had believed every time she had misplaced it even after an object would change places four or five times. Apparently she heard none of the muffled sniggering from her whole class. And to make things perfect, James was certain he saw Lily concealing a smile as Professor Fflout's cauldron change positions.

To many Ravenclaw's dismay, the Library had once again been bewitched in the way that it had a few years ago to the date. The books constantly terrorized the students, and it wasn't until a second year ended up in the Hospital Wing with a bite he claimed a Library book caused that everyone gave up and fled to the safety of their Common Rooms. Of course, Lily most annoyed that her afternoon studying had been interrupted, and she made it a point to inform the culprits that their pranks had better not effect her schoolwork (James grudgingly promised he'd have the Library back to normal by tomorrow).

But the Marauders' favorite part of the day was the time the spent dedicated to taunting Snape anonymously between classes. Occasionally, he would trip a few more times than usual thanks to a handy Trip Jinx; his bag would fall apart repeatedly with a simple "_Diffindo_" (even after Snape had just repaired it); and, of course, surprises just 'happened' to keep turning up in his meals. Rather than looking confused at the occurrences, he threw the four boys a look of utmost loathing whenever possible. He seemed still determined to prove their responsibility for these and the other pranks throughout the day, hoping it would be enough for expulsion. He just couldn't catch them in the act, and that vexed him more than anything else.

No one could quite remember a day with so many pranks in the History of Hogwarts (those that bothered to read _Hogwarts, A History_ can attest to that fact). The Marauders, true to their word, did not disappoint everyone's expectations and lived up to their troublemaking reputations as they filled the afternoon with the usual rule-breaking antics. It seemed indeed that Dumbledore, knowing full well who was behind it, had simply—his eyes twinkling—turned a deaf ear.

Of course, everyone knew exactly who was behind all of the bedlam—but no one could prove it. The Marauders operated in such secrecy that, if they're reputation weren't widely know, most couldn't trace the prank back to its source. Always thorough, they never left a trace of their identification—the consequences would be most incriminating.

So, it was with great trepidation for the younger and older students alike that they made their way to dinner that evening. Some felt that it was safer to remain in their own Common Rooms (the non-Gryffindors, that is) and thus skipped dinner to avoid any likely mealtime catastrophes such as they'd witnessed that morning. Most, however, braved the Great Hall despite their better judgment. Some were simply too hungry to skip dinner. Nonetheless, there were far less students present that evening than usual—both Jillian and Evelyn included.

When James hesitantly pointed this out to Ian, he didn't seem as angry as expected over the incident during breakfast (which, for a Wood, is a unique occurrence) as Evelyn obviously had been.

"I'm not upset," he assured James, noticing his surprised expression. "Really, I know you didn't target her on purpose." He smiled and gave a hearty laugh. "If it weren't for that, and, of course, my sister throwing a hissy fit at you, it would have been quite hilarious. No, I'm just worried about how Jillian's adjusting to her house and all."

"Not well?" asked James, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Not yet, no. Maybe it's just the initial shock, you know? At least, that's what I expect it is. I'm hoping it'll grow on her in time. . . . You never know, she may end up _liking_ Slytherin," said Ian unconvincingly.

"Yeah, maybe," replied James lightly, unable to make up his mind on whether Jillian liking or detesting Slytherin would be worse.

_Well, even if they are a rotten lot, I s'pose it's better if she copes with it_, James reasoned. He tried to imagine himself in Slytherin house, and when he imagined sleeping in the same room as Snape, he immediately disregarded that thought. _Definitely glad I don't see **that** happening._

"Say, your sister's not still pissed, is she? The other sister, that is. I'm assuming that's why she's not here? You'd think she'd have already extracted all her excess anger on me, anyway," said James, pointing to his recovering cheek, which was still a light tinge of pink.

"Ah, now you've fully experienced the Beater-strength fury behind the legendary Evelyn Wood, who I'd already warned you is quite vicious," commented Sirius, apparently having overheard their conversation.

"Actually, I believe she's in the Owlery, sending a letter to our parents," replied Ian darkly. He seemed to be thinking of his mum and dad's reaction to their youngest daughter's sorting. "And I have no idea whether or not she's still upset, but knowing her, I'd say that's likely. You know how she is—never takes anything lightly, that one. She may be a bit—_emotional_, but she's dead loyal, and I guess that's where all the rage came from when she felt that her family was being threatened. Even though it wasn't," he added hastily, seeing James and Sirius about to protest. "Still . . . I'd stay away for awhile, if I were you. I think she's still sulking about losing points and whatnot."

Sirius and James exchanged looks. It was clear that neither of them were willing to tickle a sleeping dragon anyhow, so to speak. They both thought it best to follow Ian's advice and give Evelyn some much-needed space.

Before asking Ian whether or not the Gryffindor Quidditch team had found itself a new seeker, James spotted Lily approaching the table about to take a seat beside Beatrice and Remus. He figured he might as well try to engage her in a friendly conversation, although the odds of that actually happening were looking pretty slim for James. Despite that, he remained as confident as always.

"There's Lily, gotta run!" whispered James before dashing over to meet her. Sirius muttered "whipped" as James rushed past him.

James quickly slid into the seat next to Lily before she could object. He ignored the scowl that she had plainly sent him.

"Come to put something else in my food, Potter?" she asked coldly. Her eyes were sparkling with their familiar frustration that she reserved only for James Potter. _Although, I must say, I'm quite proud of crediting that expression._

"That one never really gets old, you must admit," said James. "But, lucky for you, I didn't come over for that at all. I did, however, decide to generously grace you with my presence to merely ask you, Lily Evans, how your first day back at school was."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was already cottoning on to his sugar-coated words, understanding that it as another new tactic to get into her good graces. All previous attempts had, obviously, been unsuccessful. Nonetheless, she decided it was better if he found out on his own that his attempts were pointless.

"Between all the explosions and screaming disruptions during the day, Potter, it was hard to fit in any learning at all," she replied wryly. _And now to commence the beginning of the Lily Evans observation. Note to self: she takes school seriously._

He grinned. "Then my life as a Marauder has not been in vain."

"For you information, some people actually _like_ to be here and _want_ to learn. Even though someone like you couldn't possibly understand, some of us don't live in a picture-perfect world where magic was force-fed them all their lives. Some of actually have to work for our own recognition and acceptance if we want to excel in the Wizarding world."

He immediately knew what 'us' she was referring to: Muggleborns. In his ignorance, James often forgot that she had to work twice as hard in their society when he had the luxury of automatic acceptance simply because his parents were wizards. He didn't have to face the unjust prejudice that she faced on a daily basis because of her non-magic parents. It didn't seem fair, and James had unknowingly made the burden for her harder than it already was with his classroom disturbances. _Note to self: she strongly opposes intolerance. Can't say I blame her._

He noticed Remus had the decency to look a little ashamed when he heard Lily's comment, but quickly began conversing with Beatrice again to hide it. James, on the other hand, feigned ignorance.

"Don't be so dramatic, Lily! You're the brightest witch in our year, which includes me too, and _that's_ saying something."

Lily blinked. She was utterly torn between the blatant use of her forename, the bit of flattery he gave her, and his display of a complete lack of modesty. _Only James Potter could possess that kind of egotistic talent_, she mused.

"How is it that you manage to compliment someone and boost your ego in one sentence, Potter?" she asked, clearly annoyed with what she believed was his flirting.

"You'll find that's one of my many gifts, Lily dear. At least . . . you _would_ find that out if you'd give me a chance," he said earnestly. _Damn it, me and my big stupid mouth. I'm not supposed to ask her out, and here I am, doing it! Bugger me._

Lily snorted. _Shameless self-promotion as a dating campaign. . . . _"If that _'gift'_—if it can be called that—is a preview of what would follow, you can rest assured, Potter, that I want absolutely nothing to do with it. You'll forgive me if I don't find your offer the least bit tempting," she finished.

_Note to self: does not appreciate flirting or complimenting myself. That's very good to know. _

James wasn't discouraged, however. Rather, he silently congratulated himself on his success at keeping up the conversation for so long and finding out several things about Lily Evans that could be used to his advantage. He kept reminding himself—through all the rejections and insults—that observing her was the key to getting on her good side.

She had ended with a tone of finality, and, figuring that the conversation had been terminated, turned to talk to a seventh year sitting next to her, Gideon Prewett. He decided to change tactics and catch her off-guard. "Lily, do you even know my _name_?"

She turned back around, clearly vexed again. "Of course I do, Potter," she replied shortly, as if it were completely obvious.

Before she could resume small talk with Gideon once more, he continued, "Then why do you insist on calling me 'Potter'?" I happen to think 'James' suits me much better, don't you?" _Perhaps I shouldn't've added my tedious opinion. . . ._

"Whatever, Potter. This may be a foreign concept to you, but I really don't care what you think."

_Ouch. Ah well, I worry not. She'll come around. Good thing I'm so persistent. . . . Well, maybe not for her._

He ignored her comment. "Well, since you don't care, d'you think you could—"

"Fine! _James_, now would you _please_ leave me alone?" She was speaking in a kind of desperate whisper rather than her usual biting retorts, and he didn't understand why her tone had changed so suddenly. _Okay, the mystery is just **killing** me, now I **have** to know. . . ._

He smiled victoriously. "Now was that _really_ so hard?"

"_Yes_," she spat, still whispering. "Would it _kill_ you, for once in you life, to just _leave me alone_?"_ Oh yes, she was definitely trying to get rid of me—more than usual, that is, if that's even possible in the historical archive of 'Lily Evans encounters'. . . . Hmm . . . how strange. . . ._

Now he was positively grinning, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes. "Well, actually, I think it would—"

"GO!" She definitely sounded pissed now, and, not wanting to be responsible for yet another angry female, he finally complied.

_Conclusion: Lily Evans is hiding something, wants absolutely nothing to do with me, and should under no circumstances be provoked into slapping me for the second occurrence in one day—Sirius would never let me live it down._

As he left to retake his seat next to Sirius, he glanced back and saw that Lily had reinstated conversation with Gideon Prewett. _What could she possibly want to talk to him so badly for? Stupid git, just because he's Head Boy and all, he thinks he's so special. Why would Lily want to talk to Pretty-boy Prewett?_

His heart sank a little as he saw Lily smile and laugh casually with him, her beautiful emerald eyes dancing with happiness. _How come she never smiles and laughs like that with me? I can be charming too! You just don't let me._

He became distracted, however, when a large screech owl swiftly flew across the Gryffindor table, landing in front of Sirius. He took the letter from the owl uncertainly.

"Wonder what this is? Owls came this morning at breakfast. Probably some cursed object my folks are trying to send me but forgot to sneak it in my luggage. . . ." said Sirius curiously as he tore open the envelope.

His guess was only half off.

Sirius carefully removed the letter, only to find that there was nothing written on either side. Puzzled, he pulled out his wand and uttered "_Aparecium_!" as he jabbed the parchment with it. And to his shock, invisible ink appeared, just not in the form of a letter he had expected.

Ink, projected from its source, covered every bit Sirius's bewildered face. For a moment he was utterly nonplussed.

Sirius blinked, becoming vaguely aware of what had just happened. The Great Hall erupted into peals of laughter, the Slytherins being the loudest. Many were pleased to see that the prankster had in fact been pranked himself. And Sirius, being a good sport, joined in the merriment. He inadvertently caught someone's eye as he glanced further down the Gryffindor table.

Beatrice Regnet was laughing herself hoarse, her eyes dancing with mischief as they met Sirius's. Comprehension dawned on him. He smirked back in response, unable to keep the mischievous glint out of his eye as well, for a Marauder is always ready to accept a challenge, and they had the rest of the year before them to see it through.

* * *

A/N: Finito! Hopefully that sustains you until HBP, because that was over 8,000 words long! Like I said, it may be awhile before my next update, at least 10 days, I'm guessing. Try not to lose too much sleep over HBP! 

Thank-yous:

Brianna: Glad you liked it, thanks for being my first reviewer!

ShadowlessBardess: I can't you belive you like it that much already! Please stick around, and thanks for reviewing!

Lucy Knight: Well I'm certainly glad that you decided to read my fic, hopefully you'll continue to read more HP fanfiction, there's a ton of great writers out there! Thanks for reviewing!

Joe: Hope you stick around, thanks!

Oni-Gil: More is on the way, thanks for your review!

lezerly: Creating different personalities for each character is _exactly_ what I was going far, and I'm so glad that you liked it. It's hard to tell from my perspective if the desired effect is actually reached, so I'm very happy that you let me know. I hope you definitely stick around as well, thanks for your reviews!

MistressBill: Thanks for your long review! I'm really pleased that you like my different characters too, because you're right, there are too many stories out there with 2D characters with the same personality. And completely agree--sarcasm is a language in itself. My friends are always telling me that I'm overly sarcastic. What can a girl do though, right? Haha... and I found it really funny about the pirate comment you made concerning Sirius, because he says something in the beginning of this chapter that I wrote before you reviewed me. Very coincidental, I must say. I'm so happy you think I'm a talented writer! Wow that made my day when I read that. Hope I don't disappoint a loyal fan!

SBlack4Life: That good, eh? Thanks for your review!

And of course . . . . please review! Feel free to ask me questions!


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